


Vendetta

by psychobetts



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Disorder, Archie Andrews Being an Asshole, Betty/Veronica Frenemies, Character Death, Cheating, Dark Betty Cooper, Developing Relationship, Explicit Language, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Music, Just legit mental and personality disorders, No Wigs and Lingerie Present, Not for Barchies, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Serious Anger Issues, Southside Serpent Jughead Jones, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychobetts/pseuds/psychobetts
Summary: Betty Cooper likes everything to go according to plan.But, she didn’t plan for her boyfriend’s infidelity;she didn’t plan for her friend’s betrayal;and she definitely didn’t plan for the pensive and distant writer to become her closest confidant.There’s only one plan Betty intends to rely on now. The one she can ensure, the one she feels deep in her bones.Revenge.Inspired by the song 'bellyache' by Billie Eilish.





	1. sittin' all alone

**After**

I was not accustomed to the heavy empty silence in my brain. Ordinarily, many threads of contemplation wove themselves back and forth through my mind. I constantly entertained them, pulling and playing with them in certain orders, creating intelligent and rational tunes. These threads of thought sung to me. 

 

Tonight, on Sweetwater Bridge, those threads had been strummed so hard that they snapped. No more music.

 

I studied my hands; the gravel dust and my sweat had created a disgusting sensation, and my hands were stinging. I had cuts on my palms. 

 

Still silence. Silence.

 

_Where's my mind?_

 

Maybe I'd lost it. Maybe it was in the trunk of my car, a few feet away. Maybe it was back in the room where I'd met him. Maybe it was in the puddle, the mess I'd left. Anyway, I'd misplaced it - set it down somewhere along the way and just realized now that I needed it.

 

_Look what you've done without it._

 

Finally, something to break the awful, sweltering, suffocating silence, a motorcycle drove up beside my car. There was the cut of a motor and footsteps.

 

“Betty.”

 

I did not look up from my hands at his concerned tone. I was focused on my fingernails; I had noticed my desperate need for a manicure. I wondered what the technician would think of my crimson-stained nails. His sharp intake of breath interrupted my terse thoughts.

 

“Oh god.”

 

At his words, against everything in me, I rested my face in my dirty hands. I couldn't explain, I couldn't think–

 

_Where the fuck is my mind?_

 

I didn't plan to speak, because of course I couldn't without my brain present, but I heard my voice say, "They'll be here soon."

 

"Who?"

 

My voice didn't answer.

 

I felt him sit down next to me on the curb, his body was warm next to mine. He gently lifted my head out of my palms and I let him.

 

"Where are the girls?" he asked, and I finally looked at him. He didn't seem fearful of my answer.

 

I tilted my head, gesturing towards my car. He nodded solemnly, calmly.

 

"Alive?"

 

A laugh bubbled up my chest and out of my mouth.

 

**2 weeks before**

 

It was a particularly beautiful Monday morning, and I woke up feeling refreshed, content, and weirdly taller. I shared this insight with Veronica on the way to school and she rebuked me.

 

"It's not possible to feel taller, Betty," she rolled her eyes at me, "but I'm glad you're having a good day so far. Did Archie do something particularly romantic?"

 

I ignored her small jab. "No, I got my Harvard acceptance package in the mail and I'm moving in a month." I felt pride saying it out loud, especially to her.

 

"Betty!" Veronica reached across the back seat to pull me into a hug. "That's incredible! I'm so relieved for you."

 

Relieved? I pulled back from her. "Yeah, I'm happy. Everything is going according to plan."

 

That was what I cared about– the plan. Veronica could be passive-aggressive, Archie could be distracted by music and football, and my parents could work the longest hours, but I still wouldn’t care as long as Archie and I got to Massachusetts for school next fall and started our gleaming future together. Graduation was only two weeks away and I could already taste the success and freedom.

 

"I will miss you though, B," Veronica added, patting my hands in my lap.

 

I smiled at her, despite my slight annoyance. "I'll miss you too. But you'll visit us, right?"

 

Her pretty dark eyes blinked, and I saw a brief flash of confusion. It disappeared fast enough that I thought I'd imagined it.

 

"Definitely," she chirped, "but you guys have to come to New York first. That's where the real parties will be!"

 

I laughed and agreed with her, but truly I had no intention of going to New York. Firstly, the bustle of the city was overstimulating for me, and secondly, I had no desire to see Veronica in the next chapter of her life. Our association would probably end with high school. I liked her well enough, but she had outlived her usefulness.

 

I looked at her shiny black hair, her pearl necklace, her perfect complexion, and I recalled how much I used to envy her. She had always exuded success and elegance, and I wanted to be that too. Over the years I had found in myself the ambition and capabilities I believed she had possessed. I had the potential to be more, to do more, and she turned out to be not much more than an air-headed socialite.

 

That was harsh. She had her qualities. I no longer envied them, and only occasionally admired them.

 

Her driver pulled into the school's parking lot and parked the car as close to the entrance as possible. Veronica Lodge should not have to exert extra effort.

 

Veronica's door opened, and her driver stood on the other side. "Have a good day at school, Miss Lodge."

 

"Thank you, Smithers!" Veronica chimed as she climbed out the car. Myself, I pushed my door open and quickly went to follow her up the path. I saw Archie standing at the front door waiting for us.

 

"Archiekins!"

 

I watched as he met her eyes and smiled at her for a long moment before looking up and past her to me. _I hated that name._

 

"Hey guys," my red-headed boyfriend greeted us.

 

"Archiekins, you'll never guess what Betty told me this morning!"

 

Archie looked down at me and raised his thick dark eyebrows. He looked slightly worried.

 

"I got into Harvard,” I shrugged, playing it nonchalantly. 

 

His eyes widened and he wrapped his arms tightly around me. "That's awesome, Betts!" He kissed the top of my head. "You’re amazing, you know that?"

 

Face to his hard chest, I breathed in his familiar and comfortable scent. He'd just come from football practice so there was a slight sweaty smell, but in that moment, I didn't mind. We were happy, we were together, and we were going to get out of this town and do great things.

 

I pulled my face out of his chest and stared up at him. "I know."

 

"So, you two are leaving in a month?" Veronica's voice floated into our little circle from behind me. Archie promptly dropped his arms.

 

"Yeah, about that," I replied looking back up at Archie. His lips formed a thin line. "We still need to work out the details, but with Archie going to Longy and now me at Harvard, there's no reason to wait."

 

Veronica frowned prettily. "No reason at all, except to have a great summer before I lose you both! Why do you have to go so early?"

 

She hadn't brought this up in the car. "I got an early acceptance, so they want me there before other students," I replied, attempting an even tone. She was irritating me again.

 

"Hey V, we should probably get to our first class," Archie spoke up, effectively and thankfully ending the conversation.

 

"Yeah, probably," Veronica glanced at her phone. "We'll see you at lunch, Betty?"

 

I nodded. Archie touched my arm quickly and smiled before making his way down the hall with Veronica by his side.

 

“Oh! Archie,” I called out after them. He turned around, walking backwards. “Don’t forget our date tonight.”

 

He nodded and waved. I watched as they disappeared down the hallway.

 

I was glad to have a spare period first for the school newspaper. Reading other's work, editing, and then designing the issue was always my favourite part of the day. It also happened to be a great addition to my resume.

 

_Editor-in-chief, The Blue and Gold._

 

I was proud of my title, and proud of myself and my team for re-establishing the paper over the last few years. I had no doubt that the hard work I had put in would keep the paper going long after I stopped walking the hallways of Riverdale High.

 

Also, so would Jughead Jones. One of my best contributing reporters and writers, I knew he cared about the paper as much as I did. He also brought forward the most interesting stories, being from the other side of the tracks. When Southside and Riverdale High merged back in sophomore year, he became a permanent and valuable fixture on the Blue and Gold team. With the stories he had leads on, he had helped me to raise the paper from the dead. I was sure he'd keep it living and breathing once I left. I was lucky that he chose to take a fifth year of high school.

 

I pushed open the heavy door of the Blue and Gold's office, spotting Kevin Keller, the columnist; Toni, the photographer; Ethel, a reporter; and of course, Jughead, who stood at the front of the room next to what we liked to call our "murder board".

 

It was a bit of a misnomer.

 

"GIRL, Betty. You need to help us settle something," Kevin said as he jumped up from the desk he'd been sitting on.

 

"Good morning to you too, Kevin,” I responded, putting my books down on my desk marked Editor.

 

"Yeah, yeah," he waved his hands in the air, dismissing me, "Toni says that Grundy has been giving major sex vibes to some of the hotter guys in her music class, and I don't see it at all. What do you think?"

 

I rolled my eyes. "Is this for a lead, or are you just gossiping?" I glanced over at Jughead and the "murder board". He had written GRUNDY in large black letters on a piece of paper, connected by red yarn to other pieces of paper that read Reggie, Sweet Pea, Moose and Fangs. I frowned at the inferences they were already making.

 

"Betty, it is my job to gossip," Kevin scoffed.

 

“No one is paying you,” I responded automatically, still examining the board.

 

Jughead noticed my expression at the board and shrugged. "They made me do it."

 

Toni spoke up then. "I am being legitimately serious. She's not just flirting. She stares at them and favours them, and it's just…" she trailed off and shuddered, "…gross. She's a fucking predator, I'm telling you."

 

"I've never noticed anything like that from her before and she's never made me uncomfortable," Kevin argued.

 

"Dude, you're so gay– "

 

"Okay, stop," I interrupted what was about to potentially become a lewd conversation, "These are strong accusations to make. So, Toni, if you're serious about this claim then you need to follow it up with some actual evidence. Also–" I walked over to the murder board and started pulling off the papers "–this is a sensitive topic so we shouldn't be putting it on the murder board for anyone to see."

 

"That's what I said," Jughead piped in.

 

“Great, at least someone has some sense around here. Toni, I expect you’ll follow this up yourself? I know you don’t normally do investigative tasks, but–-”

 

“Yes, I will,” she nodded firmly, “I’m worried about the guys. Sweet Pea says she’s been especially weird to him.”

 

I grimaced. “The insinuation is gross, don’t get me wrong, but this could be a huge story for us.”

 

New leads always got me excited. While I always tried to be sensitive to the topics, sometimes it was difficult to consider the repercussions of breaking a story. At that moment, judging by Toni’s face, I had gone a little too far with my enthusiasm. I corrected myself quickly.

 

“Don’t worry Toni, we’re doing this for the boys first, the readers second,” I assured her. Though, in my mind I had another reason.

 

_Breaking the cold hard facts._

 

I never let a story based on unfounded opinions and circumstantial evidence be printed. After all, I was going to be a litigator, and hopefully a judge someday; I believed in telling the truth and justice being served.

 

And also, in this case, pervs getting what they deserved.

 

Aside from this, I just really enjoying investigative journalism (it was my plan B, though I knew I likely wouldn’t need it). Recently, I had been working on a piece about the resurgence of young gangs in American small towns. At first, I had started the research because it was for my Harvard application; they had wanted to see samples of research, writing and critical thinking. But the further I’d looked into it, the more the topic had caught my interest. There was something about the sordid underground of small town life that intrigued me to my core. I also had an insider into the world of the Southside Serpents – Jughead. Not many people were privy to this information, but Jughead had become a part of Riverdale’s resident gang when he was only a sophomore. Because he was young, he wasn’t included in a lot of the more conspicuous jobs the Serpents did, but he was involved in enough to give me a scoop here and there. Between the Blue and Gold, and my own personal research project, I owed Jughead a lot.

 

I glanced over at the whip-smart boy, typing away furiously at a decade old computer. We had developed a sort of friendship over the years. We didn’t spend time together outside of school; most of my free time was spent with Archie, Veronica, or my family. However, I knew that Jughead and I had a lot in common. Though on the outside we were polar opposites – he was the classic loner-boy archetype, while I was always the charming and polite sweetheart – we shared many interests beyond the school newspaper. We both enjoyed classic literature and film, as well as tinkering with automobiles and other machines. Both of us had young people in our lives; I had my older sister’s daughter Juni, while Jughead had a toddler sister named Jellybean. Over the years we’d noticed a few other similarities, but perhaps the largest, most significant thing that connected us was our parents.

 

Back in the early spring on a rainy day, Jughead had given me a lift home when we’d stayed late for the Blue and Gold. My mother had spotted me hopping off his motorcycle from our large front window. I’d been screamed at for an hour about getting on the back of a “dirty Jones’ death trap”. I had pushed her too far that night – she eventually broke and told me about her brief yet heartbreaking romance with Jughead’s father, FP Jones.

 

To say I was surprised would be an understatement. To say I was shocked would still be. To say that I was flabbergasted would almost match how I’d felt. My mother, perfect and proper, Stepford wife, Northside Queen, had been in love with “Southside scum”.

 

The next day while Jughead and I worked on the paper’s layout, I’d brought up my new piece of information.

 

“Did you know that our parents dated in high school?” I blurted out, sitting next to him in front of the computer.

 

Jughead didn’t even look away from the computer and let out a short laugh. “What? Who’s your source?”

 

“My mother.”

 

He stared at me then, his eyes wide. “Are you kidding me? Your mom and my dad?”

 

I just nodded, trying not to laugh while also trying to suppress a grimace.

 

“That’s insane. My dad never mentioned that while he was around.”

 

“I guess… it didn’t end well. My mom said he broke her heart, and that I couldn’t hang out with you because you’d do the same to me.”

 

He broke eye contact then, looking back at the computer screen. He took a second to answer. “We aren’t dating, though.”

 

I elbowed him. “I’m aware of that, genius.”

 

He elbowed me back but didn’t respond. I felt a slight tension in the room, but I wasn’t sure what I’d done, or if I’d said something wrong.

 

“Jug?” I touched his arm gently, and he looked back at me. There was a strange hesitance in his expression. “I know you’d never let me down like that, dating or not.”

 

He bit his lip and sighed. “No, I wouldn’t. I’m definitely not my dad. And you’re not your mom. We aren’t our parents.”

 

I laughed a little. “And thank god for that.”

 

“And…” he turned fully to me, expression serious. “If we did date, we’d be a way better couple than them.”

 

I didn’t respond right away, startled at his admission. But then his lips pressed into a tight line and I’d realized he was withholding laughter. Asshole. I quickly knocked his beanie off his head before he could stop me, and then placed my hands against his chest and pushed him away. He barely slid on his rolling chair. 

 

“Jug!”

 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I surrender. Don’t hurt the beanie,” he was laughing as he picked his hat off the floor and plopped it back on his dark head of hair.

 

I laughed too. “You’re right, but shut your mouth!”

 

He zipped his mouth and threw away the key, his eyes sparkled like I’d never seen before.

 

Since that conversation, neither of us had broached the subject of our close friendship. And no one else had mentioned it either. With Jughead flying under the radar at school, and me almost always attached to the hip of either Veronica or Archie, the item of Betty and Jughead didn’t exist. Honestly, the only item that existed was Betty and Archie. That was the couple that I’d planned, that was the couple everyone else expected.

 

I thought about my boyfriend. Now, we made sense. Archie and I had been exclusive for years, ever since I finally got the nerve and the confidence to tell him that we belonged together. It took some time, but eventually he realized it too. We were instantly a power couple. He was the quarterback with a heart and voice of gold, and I was the gorgeous, confident and intelligent woman by his side. I believed there was nothing either of us could accomplish if we set out to do it together.

 

Yet sometimes, I felt as though he didn’t have the same passion and drive that I did. Sometimes, I felt as if he didn’t understand my ambitions and what motivated them. Sometimes, we didn’t feel like the partners in crime that I had once imagined.

 

I glanced over at Jughead sitting across the room. This time he noticed and shot me a smile, raising his eyebrows.

 

There were times that the beanie-wearing boy across the room felt more like a comrade than my own boyfriend did.

 

I winked at him egregiously, to which he silently laughed and shook his head at. I felt my stomach jump, and then sink.

 

It was really too bad that Jughead didn’t fit into my life plan. I was going to miss him.

 

~

 

It was unusually crowded in Pop’s that night, so Archie’s and my first date in months was severely and quickly hijacked. Fifteen minutes after we had sat down, before I could even bring up the topic of our impending move, Veronica and Kevin had slid into the booth uninvited.

 

“Do you two lovebirds mind if we join you? We couldn’t find another booth.”

 

Archie eagerly nodded, and happily moved over. Maybe he had invited them.

 

Typically, I wouldn’t mind. I wasn’t the kind of girl who needed her boyfriend all to herself, all the time. But it had been a very long time since Archie and I had spent quality time together. Whenever I’d reached out to him for some us time, he’d had football practice, songwriting with the Pussycats, or construction work to finish. Finally, we’d planned this date well in advance because it was nearing our anniversary. There was no excuse this time.

 

Now, there were two excuses: one across from me wearing pearls and pumps and sitting weirdly close to Archie, and one sitting next to me, already chattering about how his latest closeted sexual encounter was at the other side of the restaurant with his “mousey” girlfriend.

 

“Actually guys,“ I interrupted, “Archie and I were going to talk about Massachusetts, so if we could get some time alone?”

 

“Betty,” Archie frowned at me from across the table, “It’s fine. We can talk about that later. It’s not important right now.”

 

I narrowed my eyes. Not important? I noticed Veronica shift uncomfortably next to Archie, and they turned their attention back to Kevin as he started back up his story.

 

I bristled in my seat. I wasn’t used to being steamrolled, and it got to me. Archie’s apathy got to me. Not fucking important. I sat quietly, feeling cornered in the roomy booth. I stared out the window while I waited for my food, trying to block out the inane conversation that further grated on my nerves.

 

Through the haze of irritation, I noticed a familiar figure hop off their motorcycle. It was Jughead, clearly coming to satisfy his burger craving. I absently noted that he wouldn’t be able to sit down. Without a conscious thought, I was trying to escape the booth.

 

“Excuse me,” I said loudly and firmly, interrupting whatever what coming out of Kevin’s mouth. I didn’t care. He moved for me, registering my obvious irritation. No one spoke as I slid out of the booth and walked away towards the front door of the diner. No one cared that I was upset, least of all Archie.

 

I was at the front door when it dinged with Jughead’s arrival. He noticed me and he smiled automatically. It was what he always did when he saw me in public, but he never initiated conversation. It was almost a strange unspoken rule of communication (or lack thereof).

 

“Hey Juggie!” The nickname slipped out of my mouth. I’d never called him that before, but it felt right coming off my tongue.

 

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, sticking his hands in the pockets of his Sherpa jacket and moving into the long line.

 

I smiled easily despite myself and followed him. “It seems that everyone is here tonight.”

 

He glanced around, then frowned. “Yeah, not really my scene. I tend to gravitate towards quieter spaces.”

 

I nodded. It was a writer thing, he understood. “It’s too bad. It usually is a better atmosphere in here. Sometimes I come here after school to do work.”

 

He chuckled. “You too? I’ve never noticed you in here with a notebook and a coffee before.”

 

“That’s because it’s a notebook and a milkshake,” I corrected him jokingly. The line moved, and us with it.

 

“Ah yes,” he tapped his temple, “Strawberry, right?”

 

I tilted my head at him, surprised. “How’d you know?”

 

“Uh…” he paused as the line moved ahead again. “Lucky guess.”

 

I raised my eyebrows. “Oh. Well, seeing as though you likely won’t find a spot to sit, do you want to join my friends and I? We have room for one more.” At this point, if Archie wasn’t going to care about our date, then neither was I. 

 

He looked interested but shook his head. “I ordered take out.”

 

I felt my face fall. “Oh… okay.”

 

He must have noticed my disappointment, because he frowned and glanced behind me at my friends chatting happily in the booth. He leaned closer to me; I could smell a hint of cigarette smoke and pine. I looked up at his face as he turned his gaze back to me.

 

“Is everything okay, Betts?” His blue eyes were wide, probing.

 

His question stalled me. It was perceptive and caring, and I had become unfamiliar with people treating me that way. Usually well-spoken, I struggled with finding the right words to say.

 

“Oh! Uhm, yeah. I’m… really… fine. I’m okay,” I stuttered as he continued to search my expression. I crossed my arms across my chest but didn’t break eye contact.

 

He continued to stare at me with his concerned blue eyes. We stood there silently, considering the other until he was next in line. He looked away to talk to the cashier.

 

“Takeout for Jones.”

 

I tried to put the thread of my brain back together quickly. Was I okay? No, not really. I was annoyed at my boyfriend and my friends. Mostly my boyfriend. I was concerned about our move. I felt uncertain, I never felt this way. I shouldn’t be talking about this stuff with Jughead. I should just get under control. Get it all under control. My boyfriend loved me, he was just busy. I was busy too. The move would go great, because I had it all under control. Everything was fine. Fine. Awesome. Fantastic. Because it had to be. I planned this, I wanted this, nothing would take it away from me. Everything was fine, bulletproof, unstoppable. Fine.

 

“It’s all fine,” I said out loud.

 

_Whoops._

 

Jughead grabbed his food, yelled a thanks to Pop, and turned back to me.

 

“You know, maybe I will come sit with you guys for a bit.”

 

I nodded. “Thanks,” I muttered.

 

There was no point in trying to hide anymore – my outburst had given me away. I was not fine. He knew I’d invited him because for some reason, I was uncomfortable amongst the people who were supposed to be my best friends.

 

I led the way back to my booth. Kevin looked up as we neared.

 

“Oh Betty, you dragged Jughead out of his cave to join us?” Kevin asked, his usual attitude tacked on to the question.

 

I didn’t answer, just slid back into the booth, this time pushing Kevin to the inside.

 

“You should feel honoured, Kevin,” Jughead shot back as he squished in next to me. It was a tighter fit than I had anticipated.

 

In that moment, I was closer to Jughead than I ever had been. We were shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, and I could feel his elbow brush my hip as he opened his bag of food.

 

As the contact registered, I looked up at Archie to see if he’d noticed or cared. He was turned around talking to Reggie in the next booth over. Classic. I leaned closer to Jughead; it felt safe and encouraging to be near him.

 

No, I wasn’t paying attention to Jughead because Archie was pissing me off. I was done pretending that I wasn’t friends with Jughead because I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care how Archie felt, I didn’t care how it looked. Honestly, I enjoyed Jughead’s company more than I enjoyed most people’s. I was done denying myself things I enjoyed. I had only confined our friendship to the Blue and Gold before because I knew how the optics looked – not because I cared. I never cared.

 

Fuck anyone and everyone else, Betty Cooper did what _she wanted to do._

 

“V, have you met Jughead?”

 

May as well lean into it.

 

Veronica rolled her eyes and sipped at her milkshake. “Duh, Betty. We’re in classes together.”

 

“I don’t think we’ve ever spoken before,” Jughead interjected.

 

Veronica’s eyes snapped to him, as in disbelief that he was actually talking. “No, I haven’t had the pleasure.”

 

“Oh, well I’m glad you’re finally getting the opportunity. Jughead works with us at the paper. He’s a great journalist. He doesn’t know this yet, but the story I’ve assigned him this issue is about power struggles within the River Vixens,” I retorted, in a sickly-sweet voice.

 

Veronica blanched, and Jughead laughed. “Oh, we’re finally doing that story. Awesome.” He turned his attention to Veronica. “You cheer, right? Maybe you could answer some questions for me.”

 

“Oh, Betty, I don’t think that’s a good story to follow up on. You don’t want to upset Cheryl. She’ll wreck you,” Veronica spoke to me, completely ignoring Jughead’s question.

 

“I can handle Cheryl,” I scoffed. “We’re family.”

 

She turned back to Jughead, unable to reason with me. “Sorry Jughead, I don’t think I have the time to answer any questions about the Vixens. I’m really busy these days.” She looked back at me pointedly. I stared back evenly, but inside I chilled.

 

She’s busy, Archie’s busy. Sometimes I couldn’t believe these people who didn’t have time for me, and who constantly undermined me, were my best friends.

 

Jughead nodded thoughtfully. “That’s okay. I’ll just talk to the HBIC herself.”

 

I dipped my head, trying to hide my obvious smirk. Jughead could shit talk with the pettiest of females.

 

“Good luck with that,” Veronica sneered, all facades gone. I got instantly defensive on Jughead’s behalf. _Bitch, put your claws away._

 

“Well…” Kevin spoke up; I had forgotten his presence, “…I’m very pleased to have witnessed this extremely cryptic yet stimulating conversation, but I must now regretfully depart.”

 

“I should probably head out as well,” Jughead turned to me, almost like he was asking permission. He slowly slid his way out of the booth.

 

I followed him to let Kevin out. “You know, I’m not really feeling like sticking around either. Veronica, Archie, you two are on your own.”

 

At his name, Archie turned around from talking to Reggie and finally put his attention on me. “You’re leaving?”

 

“Yeah, I’m bored and I have homework. Sorry,” I shrugged.

 

“We haven’t even gotten our food. And I drove you here,” Archie looked between Jughead and I, looking more and more confused.

 

“I’m not hungry and Jughead is driving me home,” I answered quickly, glancing at Jughead. He did not appear as though he objected to my inviting myself on his bike.

 

“Okay,” Archie accepted my explanation without a further argument, then turned his attention to Veronica again.

 

I nodded curtly and strode away without a final look back. My new rage at Archie’s dismissal carried me through the door, and out into the dimly lit parking lot. Vision red like the fluorescents, my fingers twitched inward and outward slowly.

 

“Forgive me for saying this, but your boyfriend is a fucking tool,” Jughead said, once we were clear of the crowded diner and listening ears.

 

Fingers twitched in, and I clenched my fists. “Forgiven.”

 

I heard a crystal-clear voice behind me. “I would have to agree with the hobo on this one.”

 

I sighed heavily. I couldn’t deal with my bossy, impolite, and always-present-in-the-worst-moments cousin tonight. “What do you want, Cheryl?”

 

“It is not at all what I want, cousin. But I do need to talk to you,” She looked at Jughead with disdain, “Alone.”

 

“I don’t give a _fuck_ if he hears what you have to say. What is it?” All pleasantries were out the door at this point.

 

She pursed her lips, considering. “You may be embarrassed. And I don’t want to cause you that on top of everything.”

 

I stared at her and sighed, relenting. What was another thing not going my way? “Fine. One second, Jug.”

 

I followed Cheryl to her ostentatious cherry red convertible and leaned against the passenger door, waiting for her to speak. She just regarded me, somberly. It was not a look I was used to seeing on Cheryl’s face. Almost pity.

 

“What, Cheryl? I have not had a good night, and honestly, whatever it is could not be worse than what I’ve already experienced-”

 

“Your boyfriend is a philanderer.”

 

I went still, my body frozen in a mixture of anxiety and anger. “What are you talking about?”

 

“He’s been shitty lately, right? That’s because he’s being unfaithful.”

 

My stomach dropped to my knees. No, further than that. I felt it hit the pavement, at the same time I felt the stinging in my hands. I felt cold, yet at the same time, my head was burning and my vision was fuzzy.

 

I knew. _I knew it._

 

“Is it V?” I heard myself ask through the fog.

 

Cheryl shook her head. "Try a Pussycat."


	2. my friends aren't far

**2 hours before**

The timer was ticking.

 

Jughead had placed the call; there was no going back. Even if there was a way to reverse the decisions I've made up to this point, I wouldn’t choose it. I felt calmer than I had in weeks.

 

I ran my hands over my long, dark trench coat, relishing the feel of the cotton on my entirely healed palms. Since the development of what I liked to call ‘Plan B’, I had not felt the need to dig my nails into my skin. It wasn’t that I had felt a weight lifted at the news of Archie’s infidelity; in fact, that news had quite literally crushed me and reduced me to a puddle of anxiety. What steadied me was the fact that I’d finally gotten confirmation of something I’d felt for a very long time.

 

Archie was weak. He wasn’t what I needed or wanted in a partner. I needed someone who saw me for who I was, and appreciated it. I needed someone who wasn’t afraid of excellence. I needed someone who was going to bolster me, not drag me down. Archie had been dragging me down for years, though I hadn’t seen it clearly until Cheryl shoved it right under my nose.

 

But, dumping Archie wasn’t good enough. After he held onto me and kept me in the dark, purely for the sake of using me, he deserved to be shown how it felt to be betrayed. 

 

It had felt like being dunked in Sweetwater River. It had felt like ice running through my veins as the words  _ he’s been unfaithful _ pierced my eardrums and sunk into my brain. Rage followed, hot and fast, uncontrollable. I thought I had felt anger before-- at my mother or father, maybe even Veronica-- but there was nothing quite like that. It was a bubbling, a building of pressure, and then an overwhelming… explosion. Nothing else could describe it.

 

I could feel the list of tasks running through my brain, one after the other. So far, it had all gone off without a hitch. We had planned it to a tee, yet there was still an aspect of it that I didn’t feel satisfied with.

 

It wasn’t enough.

 

“Betts, Joaquin is headed to the bridge now,” Jughead’s clear voice rang out from across the room where he was pacing a trail on the floor.

 

My eyes snapped up to the familiar cork board in front of me. Plain white cards and red yarn hardly failed me.

 

“No, wait.”

 

Jughead’s pacing ceased. “What?”

 

“Tell him to come here first,” I replied, still contemplating the board and the names that had been meticulously written and pinned strategically.

 

“That’s not in the plan,” Jughead said, his voice wavered. 

 

No, it wasn’t, and I  _ always _ followed the plan. Plans were safe, plans were helpful-

 

_ but plans got destroyed when idiot men made the decisions. _

 

I stared at Jughead from across the room. I considered him, what this would do to him, how it would alter everything, and I realized that I didn’t care. How I had come to care for Jughead over the last weeks didn’t matter right now. Maybe it could matter later, when this was over. 

 

“I’m changing the plan.”

 

 

**2 weeks before**

My head pounded in time with my footsteps as I marched back towards the diner. Jughead was in my path; he was leaned up against his bike, arms crossed, staring at the dark pavement. He looked up as I neared him, taking in my undoubtedly scary and unfocused expression.

 

“Betty, is everything alright?”

 

I clenched my fists, ignoring and moving past him.

 

“Betty!” Jughead called out, and I felt his large hand wrap around my right arm and yank me still. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Let go,” I spat under my breath.

 

“No,” Jughead grabbed my other arm tightly. “Tell me what’s going on. What did Cheryl say, and where are you going?"

 

“I’m going to… make him wish he’d never used me,” I managed to force between clenched teeth.

 

Jughead’s brows pulled together and he gripped my arms somehow tighter. “Archie?”

 

I gritted my teeth at his name and nodded slowly. I felt the moisture behind my eyes building; I had a tendency to cry when I was angry. I blinked a few times, trying to dispel the tears that were clouding my vision.

 

“What did he do?”

Everything turned blurry as I heard his question.  _ What didn’t he do?  _ He’d taken everything, our past and future and fucked it all up. He ruined our memories, written over them with his salacious conquests. He stole our future – had dismissed it along with our relationship.

 

“He fucked Val,” I sneered. My head still pulsed, but with the release of tears at my admission, I felt the pressure begin to lessen.

 

Jughead took a deep breath, then pulled me into his arms without a word. I let him hold me, with my arms crossed between us, and my tear-soaked face resting numbly against his soft, worn jacket.

 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly against my hair, “I’m sorry he doesn’t know what he has.”

 

I shifted in his arms, turning my face towards the diner. I could see Archie in the window, still next to Veronica and joined by Reggie and Josie. He was oblivious to the scene going on outside. He was oblivious to everything, I realized, and I wasn’t sure when it had started. Was it when he picked up a guitar, determined to study music? Was it when he focused on songwriting instead of me? Or perhaps when our future had started to become a reality – when I spoke of us moving away from the town we had both grown up in. Regardless of when Archie stopped loving me and had started using me instead, it was not okay. 

 

Nothing would make it okay. No amount of childhood nostalgia or memories of young love could discount the fact that I no longer knew Archie, and he no longer knew me. He had changed somewhere along the way. He had become someone I couldn’t partner with. He had forgotten who and what was in front of him. Me. Us. 

 

Where did Archie’s transformation leave me? I was surely alone now, on my quest for greatness by myself. Of course, I knew I was fully capable, but now I had to rethink and rewrite everything, all while grieving the loss of a love and a friend, as well as a future I’d so desperately wanted. I had to do that because of him.

 

Jughead released me from the warm circle of his arms. I turned my head to focus on his sympathetic face.

 

“Had,” I told him, struggling to keep my tone even, and failing. “Past-tense. It’s done. We’re done.”

 

Jughead ran the pad of his thumb under one of my eyes, wiping away a lingering tear. He nodded solemnly and took a deep breath. I tried to match his composure, sucking in a shaky breath through my lips.  _ Enough _ . There would be no more crying as a result of Archie. He was very much not worth the expenditure of emotions.

 

“Does he know that?” Jughead asked, glancing quickly at Archie through the window. He scowled at the exuberance and carelessness of the redhead.  

 

I had found my resolve. “Not yet, but I plan to get it through his dense skull.”

 

Jughead’s eyes went wide at my suddenly controlled, low tone, but his lips pulled up at their sides. “Can I help?”

 

Despite myself, I smiled. This boy in front of me had made me smile in one of my darkest moments. He wiped my unbidden tears, held my unresponsive body, and earned an unlikely interruption in my foul mood with his sarcastic quips.

 

My plans for the future had been ripped out from under me, but there was the possibility a new one waiting to be realized. All I really knew in that moment was that there was only one thing in my future that involved Archie Andrews.

 

Revenge.

 

~

 

I woke the next day in my bed, unrested after a fitful sleep, and already there was a tightness in my chest. The events of the day prior had played their way through my dreams, reminding me of how my life had drastically changed within the span of hours. As if I could have forgotten.

 

Jughead had driven me home from Pop’s and bid me a gentle goodbye before disappearing into the night. Watching him go immediately felt like a crack had opened up in my chest, my earlier resolve to compose myself shattered. Without even a glance towards the Andrew’s home, I had entered my own as quietly as possible in order to avoid my parents. I succeeded in slipping upstairs to my room without detection.

 

Before I’d fallen asleep, I’d found myself replaying Cheryl’s words over and over in my head.

 

_ Philander. Unfaithful. Canoodling with Val. My girls told me they were fucking after music practices. _

 

I tried not to picture it, but my subconscious had other ideas. Even in my sleep, I was plagued by the images Cheryl’s descriptions had conjured.

 

I guess I should have been glad to be awake now, even at this early hour. Maybe once I’d figured out how I was going to deal with Archie’s actions, I would be dreaming of freedom instead.

 

Even though it was far too early for school, I dressed quickly, eager to get to the Blue and Gold office to distract myself with the paper and spend time with Jughead. I needed to immerse myself in a space that was safe, because I recognized the familiar wave of rage and anxiety that threatened to overwhelm me. Without interference, it would boil over, and then all bets were off.

 

I tried to ignore the distinct tingling in my fingers signalling the beginning of a panic attack. I breathed through my nose and closed my eyes. I tried to think of easy and straightforward steps. One – tighten your pony-

 

_ He’ll be at school. _

 

Two – apply lip gloss-

 

_ How can you even look at him? _

 

Three – grab an apple to go-

 

_ He’s probably fucking like four other people, too. _

 

Four – walk to school-

 

_ And you don’t know who they are. _

 

Five – find Jughead.

 

_ How do you know who your friends are? _

 

I slammed my hand on the edge of the bathroom counter.

 

I glared at myself in the bathroom mirror, willing my brain to shut off its self-destructive chatter.

 

_ Pull yourself together. It’s time to get shit done. _

 

I bounded down the steps and into the kitchen. I was looking through the fridge for fruit to take my medication with when a tentative knock sounded at the door. I froze, and stared wide-eyed at the door, wringing my hands.

 

My phone buzzed on the counter.

 

_ Message from Jughead: Open the door. _

 

I practically ran to the door and whipped it open. Jughead stood on the other side, dressed in dark khaki pants and a black tee. His signature ragged beanie sat on his head, and he wore a small smile on his lips.

 

“I thought I would walk you to school,” he smiled shyly, and shrugged. I breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Yes, oh my god, thank you,” I blurted, motioning for him to come inside. He stepped over the threshold and peered around.

 

“So, should I hide, or risk being bludgeoned with a heel by your mom?”

 

I put a finger to my lips, not only to stop myself from laughing, but also to indicate for him to be quiet.

 

“Just give me a second. I’m almost ready,” I half-whispered as I ran around the room getting my things in order. I decided on a banana from the fruit bowl and shoved my books into my backpack. “How did you know I’d be awake?”

 

“I figured. I didn’t sleep well after my dad left. Insomnia’s a bitch to us all,” he muttered humourlessly.

 

I re-joined him at the door and we stepped out into the morning sun. I closed the door behind me.

 

“That’s really shitty,” I responded to his earlier sentiment.

 

“Yup,” he replied as we made our way down the path, “I guess I just wanted to let you know…I get it. Being betrayed sucks and it fucks you up for a bit. It’s totally understandable.”

 

I nodded, suddenly feeling the need to kick the stones at my feet. I wanted to be honest with him for some reason. I measured my words. “The insomnia isn’t even the worst part. It’s that rush of…intense…fury that is so debilitating,” I flexed my fingers, feeling that negative energy running through my body. “It’s like an electric current.”

 

“Like you just want to destroy something?”

 

“Yeah,” I whispered. I had never admitted that I possessed such feelings to someone before. It felt freeing.

 

“I get that. Sometimes you just have to give in though, you know? Let that energy take over and just wreck something. Because if you don’t…you may wreck yourself.” He grabbed my hand swinging between us, and turned it over, revealing my scarred palms.

 

_ When had he noticed? _ I felt the immediate instinct to pull away and hide my hands but I fought against it.. Something in me told me I could trust Jughead.

 

“Sometimes…” I paused, trying to find the right way to explain. I focused on my hand resting in Jughead’s larger, warmer one. “I feel like there’s something inside me. Like something sick… a poison? And I have to get it out somehow. So…” I trailed off then, to a place where I couldn’t say what it is I did to myself. 

 

“So, you cut it out.”

 

I grimaced, closing my eyes tightly. “No, I just have to…make a way for it to leave. Or else it consumes me.” I opened my eyes and peeked at him, wondering if he understood my convoluted explanation. “Does that make sense?”

 

Jughead ran his thumb along the edge of my wrist. “If it makes sense to you, than yes.”

 

“That release is like…taking a deep breath of air after you’ve been drowning,” I nodded at my analogy.  _ Drowning.  _ It always felt like drowning.

 

“What if you don’t get that breath?” Jughead asked slowly, like he didn’t know if he should.

 

I blew a long breath out between my lips. Jughead squeezed my hand, sensing my discomfort.

 

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to focus on his firm, unrelenting grasp rather than the image his question summoned to my mind. “I don’t want to find out,” I breathed. 

 

Jughead stopped walking and pulled me to a stop with him. He turned me and placed his hands on my shoulders, looking above my head briefly before dropping his gaze to mine.

 

“I know we’re just starting to hang out more, but please don’t hesitate to reach out to me when you can’t get that breath,” Jughead said quickly and firmly. “When you feel out of control, when you’re not sure of your next move, when that energy is just flowing through you and you can’t wield it safely, you call me. Please.”

 

I stared at him, his clear, sincere blue eyes, surprised at his weighty declaration. “Why?”

 

“Because…” His hands slipped from my shoulders, down to both of my hands, and his eyes followed. He didn’t look up when he spoke. His next words were slow and methodical. “I care about you, and I know that the battle against yourself is the hardest one to win.”

 

I tilted my head, and something akin to affection flushed through me. I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his shoulder.

 

“Thank you,” I whispered, revelling in the serene bubble we had created right there on the sidewalk. I lifted my head and smiled at him. His lips quirked to the side.

 

“It’s really no skin off my back, Betts,” he teased.

 

I pursed my lips. “You say that now,” I reminded him. “Just wait.” 

 

He laughed and pulled on my hand to continue walking. The school was just around the corner at this point, and we would still make it there with a good thirty minutes before the first bell. I was about to suggest a detour for coffee when an abrupt honk sounded, startling me. I dropped Jughead’s hand immediately and flinched as a turquoise Volkswagen sped by us, mere feet away. Jughead glared after the car.

 

“Since when does Grundy speed down this road?”

 

I relaxed, relieved that the car’s driver had just been our weird teacher. “Maybe she’s out cruising for young men,” I retorted.

 

Jughead groaned. “I pity those who seek extra credit from her.”

 

I shook my head, dispelling the thought. Cheaters, predators - I truly felt like I was surrounded by the characters in a vapid teenage drama show. What would come out of the woodwork next? 

 

My phone buzzed in my pocket, distracting me from my cynicism. I pulled it out of my pocket and read the message on its screen.

 

_ Message from Archie: Hey, can I give you a ride to school? I think we should talk. _

 

My blood ran cold at the text, and I could feel my pulse behind my eyes. I placed my fingers on my temples and squeezed. I hadn’t yet figured out how to handle the information I’d gleaned from Cheryl. How would I act around him, and what would I reveal? I didn’t want to just have a conversation and break up. I needed more of a resolution than that. And like I’d realized the night before, I wanted Archie to hurt.

 

So, I would keep it to myself, and bide my time until I could use the information to my full advantage-- until I could figure out his last straw and pull it.

 

I typed out a response to his text:  _ I walked early. I’m busy today.  _ I hit send.

 

There was a quick response:  _ It’s really important. _

 

I huffed in frustration, and my fingers flew across the keypad. 

 

_ Betty: We could’ve talked last night. But nothing was more important than inviting every single person in Riverdale to our booth to join our date. _

 

_ Archie: Are you actually mad about that? _

 

I wasn’t about to have an argument with him over text; it was like arguing while being tongue-tied. I shoved my phone angrily back in my pocket without responding.

 

“I don’t want to pry,” Jughead filled the silence, “but are you texting a certain redheaded miscreant?”

 

“Not anymore,” I muttered. “I still don’t know what to do about him.”

 

“Break up?” Jughead offered.

 

I shook my head. “I need more than that. I want to shame him, hurt him. I want him to pay.”

 

He had been thoughtless of our future when he decided to sleep with Val, completely putting our plans at risk for a quick fuck. Well, I could be thoughtless, too. I could take away from him what he almost took away from me.

 

Except I would succeed, because I was Betty Cooper, and he’d be left with nothing worth having.

 

“Last night, you asked if you could help,” I reminded Jughead as we crossed the school yard. “Are you still down?”

 

He grinned at me. “Definitely.”

 

~

 

I was rushing to history after home economics when Veronica found me in the hallway. I caught her eye by accident and tried to pretend like I hadn’t seen her, but it was to no avail. I heard her call out my name loudly, so I begrudgingly stopped and turned around to see her parade through a pack of freshman.

 

“Betty, can we talk? I’ve been worried all night about you.”

 

I frowned. Did she know? “Why?” I said, as I continued walking down the hall. I didn’t want to let her make me late for class.

 

“I saw you,” Veronica crooned quietly, following beside me, “outside of Pop’s. You were talking to Cheryl, she seemed like she was being rude. You looked upset, and then I saw Jughead hug you…”

 

I blinked, trying to come up with a response that would placate her. I also wondered why she was pretending to care about my feelings. Perhaps she knew what Cheryl had told me and was trying to get a read on how I felt. “Yeah, Cheryl was being a bitch,” I answered simply. I ducked into a bathroom to get away from potentially listening ears.

 

“What did she say to you? You looked devastated.” Veronica rubbed my arm gently, and I tried not to flinch at the contact. Instead, I was focused on her expressions. Was she concerned, or fishing?

 

I decided to hint. “She said something about Archie that...upset me.”

 

Alarm flashed on her face.  _ There it was.  _ “Wh-what was it?”

 

I narrowed my eyes, now fully playing games with her. I wanted to convey my suspicion that she was somehow involved, wanted to scare her into talking. “Don’t play dumb, V.”

 

Her eyes widened, and tears instantly filled them, making them appear bigger and darker than they were. “Betty, I am so, so sorry. I was going to tell you soon, I swear-“

 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Veronica?” I snapped, “Do you really expect me to believe that?” I was seething, yet completely in control. I had manipulated her into this admission, and she was completely at my mercy.

 

“B, you have to believe me. I wasn’t trying to deceive you, I wasn’t trying to hurt you. It just happened and I was so wrapped up in it and-“ she paused to suck in a breath. Her tears were running down her face in earnest now. “-I’m just like…so, so sorry.”

 

I clenched my jaw. The excessive waterworks were misplaced. If anyone should have been crying, it should have been me. I was the victim. Of course, it was classic Veronica to make everything about herself.

 

“Stop crying,” I spat at her, and she hiccupped a few times before quieting down. She pressed her fingers to her eyes to curb the streaming of tears, then swiped at her cheeks to clear them of moisture and makeup. It didn’t help; her face was a mess of streaks.

 

“When were you going to tell me about them?” I asked her calmly, giving her the opportunity to come clean and do the right thing. God knows she owed it to me.

 

“Them?” She blinked rapidly, then wiped her eyes.

 

“Archie and Val.”

 

She gaped at me. “He’s sleeping with Val, too?

 

I couldn’t help it; my jaw dropped. Too.  _ Too. _

 

If only I always listened to and trusted my instincts, I would never be surprised anymore.

 

“You and Archie?” I growled.

 

She nodded, sniffling.

 

“And Val,” I repeated, nodding to myself. “Of course. Both of you. He’s fucking both of you.”

 

Veronica started to rapidly blink again, fighting another round of tears. She wiped furiously at her eyes. I grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and handed it to her. “Stop crying, please.”

 

She nodded and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m trying,” she breathed.

 

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m surprised. He’s been such a fucking asshole these last few months. Cheryl told me she cornered Val and they’ve been together since May. Can you believe that?” I was babbling, not even angry, just exasperated. “When did you guys start?” I asked her.

 

She looked scared to answer me. “March,” she whispered.

 

_ Un-fucking-believable.  _

 

I threw up my hands, and raked them through my hair. “Seriously, V?”

 

Her face crumpled. “Betty, I am so sorry. He told me you guys were on the rocks.”

 

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at her. “And yet, three months later we still hadn’t broken up. Let me guess, he just asked you to be patient.”

 

She nodded again. “He said you were going to go to Harvard, leave us all behind, that it wouldn’t matter.”

 

“It wouldn’t matter? Of course. Unless you still wanted to be friends with me. In that case, it would definitely matter. You would never have a future with Archie and me, V.”

 

“I know that…now,” she cried.

 

“It’s irrelevant anyway,” I pointed out, “he’s been lying to both of us. So, it’s not like you two have a future either.”

 

She stared at me silently, vacantly. In a mere few minutes, the strings holding the three of us together had been cut. More futures, more relationships put to rest, more opportunities slashed.

 

All because of Archie.

 

That inconsiderate _ass-hat_. He’d lied to us and played us against each other.

 

“I want to make him pay,” I blurted out to Veronica, “Want to help?”

 

I wasn’t sure if I could trust Veronica, but judging by the waterfall that had just poured out of her face, she felt remorse. She shrugged.

 

“I still care about him,” she muttered, ashamed.  _ She should be.  _

 

“V, I’m the one who should be having conflicting feelings here. Where’s the ‘full-dark-no-stars’ girl I became friends with?” I asked her. “I need her right  now, not this.”

 

Veronica shook her head and quickly walked past me. “Betty, I am still so sorry. But I don’t know how to deal with this right now. I don’t think...I can’t get involved with this,” she waved her hands at me. “Your plans. We can’t go dark right now, and  _ not _ with Archie,” she scowled at me, spitting her last words, and exited the bathroom.

 

I stood there dumbfounded, buried in the pile of new information I’d gathered. My head pulsed like it normally did when anxiety lapped at the edges, but there was no tingling, no pressure. I flexed my fingers, feeling their looseness.

 

I didn’t know if it was possible for a person to grow used to receiving bad news, but if it was, surely I possessed that potential.

 

I sighed. I was definitely late for class.

 

~

 

The murder board was being of use again, and not for middle-aged cougars or teenage drug dealers this time. No, it was being used to plan the demise of a classic, run-of-the-mill young man who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

 

Jughead had written out the index cards.  _ Val. Veronica. ~~Shit-face~~ Archie.  _ I pinned them carefully to the worn-in corkboard in a triangle formation. We studied it silently for a few minutes before Jughead turned to me.

 

“Doesn’t really say much, huh?”

 

I shook my head and frowned. “Is this stupid?” I gestured towards the meager display.

 

He pursed his lips. “Well, we don’t call it a get-revenge-on-your-cheating-asshole-boyfriend board, do we?”

 

“No,” I groaned. “Can we just ask your friends to jump him and call it a day?”

 

“If that’s what you want, Betts.”

 

“No, no,” I squeezed my temples between my fingers, then ran my hands through my hair. My ponytail was slipping along my with concentration. “It’s not good enough.”

 

“Okay then,” Jughead stood and went to the chalkboard. “Tell me about Archie. What makes him tick?”

 

I needed a brain dump. I tightened my pony tail.  _ Working construction. When he can’t find the right lyric. When Vegas won’t pee fast when it’s cold out. Being called carrot-top. Reggie. Strong independent women who know what they want. Being challenged. _

 

A light flickered in my head. “He doesn’t like being toyed with. He’s very quick to react. If he’s angry with someone, they’ll get punched in the face. There’s no dancing around the proverbial bush.”

 

“He doesn’t write the plays, he just goes for the tackle?” Jughead grinned at his analogy. 

 

I rolled my eyes at him. “Don’t pretend you know anything about football, but sure,” I watched as Jughead wrote the words ‘ _ physical, not mental’ _ on the board. “So, if he’s being challenged in some way and there isn’t a straightforward answer to the problem, he goes a little off the deep end.”

 

“So, we do that. We toy with him,” Jughead turned back to me from the board and shrugged.

 

“But how?” I mused aloud.

 

“What do you want to gain from this, Betty?” Jughead asked as he put the chalk down and dusted off his hands. “What do you want him to lose, other than you?”

 

I closed my eyes, trying to imagine what I wanted his face to look like. Shocked. Betrayed. “I want him to see me, and what I’m capable of.” Devastated. “I want satisfaction that I left this unscathed, and he left with the consequences he deserves. I want to make it even again, reset the scales.” Scared. Hopeless.

 

My eyes snapped open.

 

“I’ve got it.”

  
  


 

**1 hour before**

It took all three of us-- me, Joaquin, and a reluctant Jughead to transfer the contents of Joaquin’s truck to mine. It was an interesting puzzle to fit what had fit easily into his truck bed into my sedan’s small trunk, but we succeeded after some careful maneuvering.

 

I slammed the lid closed, and in my peripherals, I saw Jughead flinch. He immediately turned his back to me, shoulders slouched. He pulled his beanie down, tighter to his head, and went to mount his motorcycle.  

 

He was upset, concerned. While I was flattered that he was worried about me, it was unnecessary. Jughead knew how fully capable I was; we had gone through the last few weeks together. It must have been his human, sensitive side of him that wanted to protect me. It was cute. Stupid, but cute. 

 

“Jug,” I called out to him. I wanted him to look at me before he left, before we did this. 

 

He paused before slipping on his helmet, met my eyes with his concerned ones. There was a little furrow between his brows. I felt a strange pull to smooth it out.

 

“It’s going to be fine,” I said across the distance. I saw him sigh. “Do you believe me?” 

 

He didn’t answer me, just slid on his helmet. I paced over to him. “Hey, talk to me.”

 

He looked up, the blue of his eyes startlingly cloudy. He reached out his gloved hand and stroked my cheek once. I inhaled sharply. 

 

“Be safe, Betts,” he told me, dropping his hand. He kicked his bike to life. “Don’t forget to take that breath.” 

 

I watched him ride away, a goodbye caught in my throat. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost feel bad for making Archie such a dick in this story, considering that premiere last night. Oh well. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. And thank you to [Cyd](https://shrugheadjonesthethird.tumblr.com/) for lending me her eyes (follow her on tumblr!) You're all bunch of gems. xx


	3. they'll be here pretty soon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS. Thank you for coming back and indulging in this story of mine. It means more than you know. Also, a huge thank you to my lovely and brilliant beta Cyd - she's 'shrugheadjonesthethird' on tumblr and 'squids' here on AO3. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! It's the calm before the storm...

**3 hours before**

The senior Serpent lounged in his 1988 black Chevy Silverado, waiting for the results of his earlier vandalism to show itself. He was fairly positive that slashing the tires of the rich guy’s chauffeur would do the trick – that being to make the spoiled brat walk home.

 

And then it would be the opportune time to grab her and his job would be complete.

 

He didn’t usually make a habit of visiting the Northside, but he owed Jughead a favour. The kid was good at keeping his mouth shut and Joaquin didn’t want anyone to know about his new relationship with the Sheriff’s son. It wouldn’t do anything good for his tough guy reputation.

 

He wasn’t too sure why Jughead wanted the girl. He tried not to ask questions when he was completing jobs or fulfilling favours. He followed a policy of “no questions asked”; it garnered a dynamic of loyalty. If anyone wanted anything done discreetly, they relied on Joaquin to do it, and they knew it was as good as buried.

 

_ Buried.  _ Joaquin hoped Jughead didn’t plan to kill the girl. If there was anything he wasn’t really okay with participating in, it was murder. Yeah, he’d grown up immersed in a gang, but it didn’t make him a killer. He wasn’t a psychopath.

 

He checked his surroundings again, making sure there was no one particularly observant hanging around. There were a few cars in the parking lot, a few bodies milling about, but no one seemed to be paying attention to the inconspicuous beater truck parked across the street from – he glanced at the sign –  _ Riverdale High. Home of the Bulldogs, playground of the Vixens. _

 

He rolled his eyes. Northsiders were so  _ extra,  _ as his boyfriend would say. It was the reason he hated them, and also the reason why he dated one.

 

At that moment, a certain Vixen stomped out the front doors of the school. The short, dark haired girl looked angry, struggling to carry her backpack and gym bag. He laughed to himself quietly. This girl had obviously never walked home in her life, even if it had been around the block. Well, he would help her out. She wouldn’t have to go far.

 

_ Let me take your bags, miss,  _ he thought to himself. He chuckled lowly as he started the engine of his truck.

 

Suddenly, another girl in a cheerleading uniform emerged from the school, this one tall, slim and with fiery red hair. She called something out –  _ V? _ – and ran to join the girl Joaquin was supposed to grab. They walked away from the school in step.

 

“Shit,” Joaquin muttered, no longer finding the plight of the women funny. Two would be more difficult than one. He suddenly wished he’d asked Jughead the reason behind this kidnapping.

 

_ Oh well.  _ There had never been a circumstance where Joaquin hadn’t delivered. He pulled out his cell phone and tapped out a message to his younger Serpent friend.

 

_ Joaquin: Two for the price of one? _

 

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and watched the girls make their way down the sidewalk. He slowly pulled out of his parking spot, then accelerated past them. He would drive around the corner, park his truck, and hide in the dark, shrouded in shadows. Then, as they walked past him, he’d grab one, and hope the other one wasn’t the type to leave her friend behind.

 

He parked beside a large tree, its branches were dense enough that it dulled the glow of the streetlights. He slipped on his glove soaked in sweet-smelling chemicals, clambered out of the driver’s seat and closed the door quietly. He crept around the front of the truck and rested near the front wheel. Hopefully they’d pick up the pace. He didn’t have the best knees.

 

After about a minute and a half, the longest of his life, he heard their voices as they approached.

 

“She hasn’t been to a practice in  _ weeks.  _ I’ve got half a mind to boot her from the squad,” one whined, “I don’t care if she’s my cousin.”

 

The other one took a while to respond. “She’s got a lot on her mind right now.”

 

“I’m aware, but she’s not the only one. She may as well come. It would probably be good-,”

 

Joaquin stood and reached out. He managed to snag a handful of the short one’s sweater, and pull her close to his body, covering her mouth with his glove quickly. The other one, the taller redhead jumped away, her eyes surprised, scared, but fierce.

 

“Let her go,” she spit between her cherry-red lips. She didn’t make a move towards him and her friend, struggling in his grip. He worked to keep the glove over the girl’s mouth.

 

“I’m not going to hurt her,” he said, “I’ve got a friend who wants to speak with her. That’s all,” he reasoned with the girl. Maybe he could convince her to leave, get away with only having to take the one.

 

Her eyes flashed, and his hope was dashed. “Absolutely not, you disgusting ophidian. Get your hands off of her, before I decide to blemish my brand new tennys with your snake blood.”

 

He laughed at her intricate threat. She had quite the flair for dramatics. He wondered if she was friends with his Kev.

 

The girl in his arms slumped, falling unconscious. He made the mistake of glancing down at her and taking his eyes off the other one, because he felt sharp knuckles strike the side of his head. He staggered but held onto the girl in his arms.

 

“What the fuck?” he sneered at the red head. She went to hit him again, but he side stepped her and quickly placed his cargo on the pavement. She lunged at him again, and he used her wild flailing against her, catching her off balance. She stumbled, and he grabbed her arms, pinning them behind her back.

 

She struggled to free her arms from his grip, but he already had his glove over her mouth. She yelled, and the pressure of her muffled screams resonated against his palm. Her movements grew steadily slower, weaker.

 

He almost felt bad as she stilled against him. It was too bad that the noble ones always hurt themselves when came to the defense of their friends. He shook his head and threw her over his shoulder easily.

 

He laid her in the bed of the truck, on top of the blanket he had set down prior. He hauled the other one from the pavement, setting her down beside the other. He paused, staring at the two girls who he’d quite easily overpowered and rendered unconscious. Remorse washed through him.

 

He sincerely hoped Jughead would take care of them, whatever they were needed for.

 

In his pocket, his phone was buzzing. He lifted and slammed the end gate, then pulled his phone out and put it to his ear without looking at the ID. He was sure of who it was.

 

“Hey man.”

 

_ “What the fuck does ‘two for the price of one’ mean?!” _

 

~

 

**4 days before**

It was a classic blackmail plan at its foundation. Simple, but delicate in its execution.

 

I knew, in order to get what I desired – Archie’s turmoil, ruined reputation, and college fund – I wouldn’t be able to reveal what I knew. I wouldn’t be able to face Archie and scream in his face that he ruined our relationship, our history, our future. I wouldn’t be able to have that satisfaction. I hoped this would be enough.

 

Jughead and I had written it all out; the murder board had come in handy after all. When the right time came, I would plan to be with Veronica and Val to keep them cut off from communication. While I was with them, Jughead, under a guise, would call Archie and tell him that he had one hour to come up with fifty grand or all of his lovers would learn of each other. Fun fact Archie didn’t and  _ couldn’t  _ know: most of his lovers were aware of each other already. If Archie resisted, Jughead would threaten our well-being. Of course, we didn’t plan to harm a hair on Veronica’s, Val’s, or my head. But Archie, being rash, prideful, and stupid, would fall for it. There was no doubt in my mind.

 

And then, when Archie came to the designated meeting spot, and handed over the duffle bag of cash, we would spread the truth. Everyone would be aware of his infidelities, and he would be out three women and his savings. Not only that, he would feel what it felt like to be betrayed.

 

He would never know it’s me. I guess I would get the satisfaction of breaking up with him, after I “found out”. I couldn’t wait for that moment.

 

There was only the one small issue of getting together with Veronica and Val at the same time. Veronica and I were on thin ice; she didn’t trust me after our confrontation in the bathroom, and Val and I weren’t friends to begin with. These were the small details that needed to be ironed out before we could set the plan in motion. I wasn’t sure which girl would be more out of my reach.

 

Since the conception of the plan, I had not spent any quality time with Archie. I didn’t want to, and he didn’t really care to keep up the façade of our relationship. I wondered how he thought he was getting away with this, going several days without so much as a phone call. He sent me texts every now and again, asking to talk, but I wanted to put that conversation off as long as possible. If he wanted to finally try to break up with me, he wasn’t allowed. It was going to be  _ my  _ right.

 

Instead, I spent my free time doing my final assignments before graduation, writing and designing the final issue of the Blue and Gold, and hanging out with Jughead. There were several interesting developments on two of those fronts.

 

There was a growing tension between my new partner-in-crime and I, and it wasn’t a bad kind. When we were together, Jughead and I had an easy banter, an intimate honesty, and increasingly affectionate contact. I felt so in sync with him, and it was comforting to know that while I had been uprooted from the life I thought I would lead, there was this new root taking hold. Even though it had only been a week, I felt like we’d been connected for years.

 

Besides Jughead, the Blue and Gold was the other thing that warranted my attention; particularly, the case of the predator teacher. Toni had been investigating Ms. Grundy actively for about a week now, and she had finally come across some significant and disturbing intel.

 

“I looked in her planner,” Toni shared with us one morning in the Blue and Gold office, “She has consistent ‘lessons with sweets’ penned in on 4 o’clock on Thursday afternoons, and when I asked her if I could schedule some extra-credit on that day at that time, she told me she couldn’t because she has a standing dinner date with her father every week.”

 

I felt Jughead shudder next to me. Kevin looked pale in his seat, while Ethel chewed on her pencil silently in the corner. I had no reaction.

 

“Well, how do we know ‘sweets’ is a student?” I asked, shrugging. Her information seemed inconclusive. I briefly considered whether I had made a mistake relying on her for this case.

 

Toni looked at me like I was dumb. “It’s got to be Sweet Pea! And even if it’s not, why would she lie to me if she was just going out with an adult?”

 

Jughead spoke up from beside me. “Have you talked to Pea?”

 

I nodded in agreement and quirked an eyebrow at Toni. She glared at us and shook her head. “No. I didn’t know how to bring it up.  _ Hey Pea, you fucking Grundy _ ?”

 

“That’s eloquent, Toni,” Kevin piped in, “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

 

“Shut up, Keller. You try asking one of your best friends if he’s having an affair with his teacher,” Toni shot back.

 

“Okay, okay,” I interrupted them before a full out debate started, surely to derail our meeting. “Toni, you’ve got to talk to Sweet Pea. The only way to get to the bottom of the truth is to ask the right questions. You want someone to reveal something? Sometimes, you got ask them questions like you already know the answers. They’re way more likely to reveal something incriminating if the pressure is ultimately removed.”

 

I remembered how I’d gotten Veronica to spill, basically scaring her into telling me about her and Archie. There had been no point for her to stay quiet because she already thought I knew. It was an interesting phenomenon. When people were faced with their own dishonesty, they tended to spit out the truth like it’s what they’d been saying all along.

 

Toni nodded slowly, considering my advice. “And if it’s not Pea…”

 

“Then it’s probably someone else,” I offered. “Toni, I’m not saying at all that you’re wrong. The whole thing seems shady and she’s obviously lying for a reason but-“

 

The large, wooden door opened suddenly, interrupting me. I looked up to see Archie standing in its threshold. Next to me, Jughead stiffened. On instinct, he placed his hand on my lower back, out of Archie’s view.

 

“Oh, hey Arch,” Kevin chirped, “What can we do for you? Did you learn how to read?”

 

Archie smiled infinitesimally at Kevin’s joke. “Nah, still working on it. I actually want to talk to Betty if that’s okay,” he said as he met my eyes.

 

“We’re having a meeting right now,” I said, coolly. I felt Jughead’s thumb rub up and down on my back, and I pulled in a breath. I had to work on keeping my head.

 

Archie gaze was fixed on me. “It shouldn’t take long.”

 

My heart pounded.  _ I wouldn’t let him break up with me – it wasn’t his right. _ I memorized the contact of Jughead’s warm hand on my back as I nodded and got to my feet.

 

Archie confidently lifted his chin and walked out of the room. I followed him and closed the heavy door behind us, leaving us alone in the hallway for the first time in a week. I sighed and looked up into Archie’s eyes, noticing then that I didn’t recognize them. I didn’t see Archie, my previous love, my childhood friend. I just saw deceit and betrayal and it was ugly.

 

“What’s up?” I asked him evenly.

 

He bit his lip nervously. “Are you still upset with me?”

 

“No,” I answered him quickly, lying.

 

“Why haven’t we talked in a week?”

 

I shrugged. “I’ve been busy. Why haven’t you talked to me?”

 

He blinked. “Oh. Uh. Same.”

 

I stood there silently, waiting for the point of this conversation. He seemed to forget why he was standing across from me. It was strange that all of a sudden, we needed a reason to be in each other’s presence. It had never been like that.

 

He cleared his throat, and I steeled myself. “I wanted to tell you…there needs to be a change of plans-- with Massachusetts.”

 

I raised my eyebrows at him; he continued, “I didn’t get into Longy. I lied.”

 

At this point, I had heard everything I needed to hear in order to hate him. So, this news did not upset me, or even surprise me for that matter. But my normal reaction would’ve been anger.

 

“Why would you tell me you’d gotten in if you didn’t?” I asked him, shaking my head.

 

His eyes hardened instantly. “Because it’s what you wanted to hear. You planned everything, without asking  _ me _ , without considering  _ me _ , so I thought I would play along with the version of Archie you wanted.”

 

I glared at him. Oh, he had no idea what version of Archie I preferred now. 

 

“The lying version?” I spat, not being able to help myself. I closed my eyes briefly, trying to calm myself down.

 

“You didn’t want me, not like this. You wanted this…pushover, some weaker version of me that you could boss into your picture-perfect life,” he said forcefully, “I don’t want to fit into that. I want to go to New York, I want to follow my dreams, I want to live as an artist-“

 

I scoffed. “All I ever wanted for you, for  _ us _ , was success and stability. Don’t get mad at me, don’t resent me for wanting the best for you, Arch,” I sneered. He was pushing me to my breaking point. I felt the pressure in my head begin to build, so I flattened my palms against my thighs. I wouldn’t fall off the edge, not now.

 

Archie reached out then, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. “Betty,” he spoke gently, “I’m sorry. I don’t resent you, I just don’t want you to plan my entire life,” he said as he stared into my eyes, searching them for something. I continued to glare at him. “I love you, Betty. I don’t want to lose you, so I needed to be honest with you. I don’t want this to become a barrier between us.”

 

_ Love. Lose. Honest. Barrier.  _ His words spiralled through my brain, striking chords. They didn’t mesh; they didn’t fit; they didn’t make sense. He didn’t love me, he’d already lost me, he’d never been honest, and the largest possible barrier had been erected smack dab between us.

 

He was still talking and I was falling. “I want to make this work between us. I don’t want to be without you.”

 

_ Selfish. Selfish. Even in his apologies he was selfish.  _ I started to shake my head, but he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. I went still under his touch, not feeling, not present, not there.

 

_ How many lips had he kissed today? _

 

_ What the fuck? _

 

_ What do I need? _

 

_ Get off me. _

 

_ What do I want? _

 

_ Stop. _

 

_ Revenge. _

 

I stepped back, my thoughts screamed at me. “Archie,” I gasped, “No.” I didn’t look at him. “No, no.”

 

The bell rang. Archie frowned at me. “What do you mean?” He asked, confused. What was confusing about ‘no’?

 

_ Fucking men. _

 

I gave him an incredulous look. “I mean... “

 

The office door opened loudly and Toni, Ethel and Kevin emerged. They glanced at Archie and I, passing us. Kevin gave me a little wave and a concerned look.

 

“You should go to your next class,” I said, trying to keep my tone even, my rage controlled. “We’ll talk later,” I muttered.

 

I had no such intention of talking to him later. This plan was going down, and soon. But he nodded at me, still wearing a confused expression, and retreated down the hallway. Waves of students poured out of classroom doors on either side, engulfing him quickly. I shuddered, still feeling the ghost of his heavy hands on my shoulders.

 

His lips on my lips.

 

Anxiety pierced through me, and I darted back inside the Blue and Gold office. I slammed the heavy door behind me and leaned back against it. I breathed in through my nose, out my mouth. I wanted to double-over and vomit, but I had to keep it together.

 

“Betty,” I heard Jughead say from across the room, and then he was next to me in an instant, his voice in my ear. “Betts, deep breaths.” I heard him whisper. “Are you alright?”

 

I squeezed my eyes shut, tried to focus on his breaths wafting over my face. I reached out and grabbed his forearms, my grip like a vice.

 

“He fucking kissed me. That piece of shit kissed me,” I managed to say, between blowing out little puffs of air. Hearing myself say the words made me want to puke, again. My stomach rolled.

 

“It’s okay, Betts, he’s gone now. He’s gone. He’ll never touch you again,” Jughead assured me. He lifted my head to look into my eyes briefly, and then he wrapped his arms that I still gripped around my waist tightly. I let go and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

 

He was my own personal life preserver. I clung to him in that office like it was the ocean, like I would drown if either of us let go.

 

We stood there for a minute; I was trying to bring my heart rate down and my head back to my body. I slowed my breathing to match his, and soon my head cleared and the tingling left my hands. I relaxed, letting the tension seep from my limbs, and stood limply holding onto him. All of a sudden, exhaustion took over.

 

He lifted me, picking me up and swiftly setting me down on my desk. I released my hold on his shoulders, and he pulled back slightly to look at me. He still stood between my legs, his hands rested lightly on my waist.

 

His face was about an inch from mine; I could still feel the warmth of his exhales on my face, the tip of his nose bumped mine. I felt another electricity, but this one wasn’t in my hands, wasn’t from fear or from pain. It buzzed between us.

 

“If he touches me again…” I breathed, “I’ll fucking kill him.”

 

Jughead’s lips quirked up. “He won’t. I swear.”

 

I nodded, not breaking eye contact. “Will you?”

 

His eyes sparkled. “Will I swear?”

 

I shook my head, his nose brushed mine again. I reached up and put hand on the back of his neck. “No. Will you touch me?”

 

His eyes widened a little, his lips lifted into a tiny smile. “Is that what you want?” he whispered, slowly.

 

I pulled his head to mine, our foreheads rested against each other, our lips so close I could almost feel his. “Yes, Jug,” I answered him, leaning closer still. “I want you.”

 

I felt his agreement rather than heard it, and then he was kissing me. His lips were soft, they moved slowly against mine. He pulled back, paused, and then kissed me again. Again and again.

 

I lost myself in it, the new feeling of this man’s affection, his breath and lips on my face, his body between my legs. It was serene, unrushed. It was what I needed; he was who I needed.

 

My hand joined the other on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me. His hands were on my waist, my back, everywhere all at once. Our kiss deepened, and I felt the vibration of his groan in my mouth. I shuddered at the feeling.

 

It had never felt like this, even a kiss between Archie and I had been less than lackluster compared to this. I briefly berated myself for ever settling, for not seeing what was right in front of me.

 

This beautiful, perceptive, shy but tough boy in a ragged wool beanie.

 

I pulled my face back to breathe, to look at his sated, smiling face. I giggled, and the sound resonated between us. He leaned in once more, pressing his lips to mine quickly, but not chastely. I hummed, content.

 

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do that?” He murmured, smiling.

 

I laughed quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I breathed.

 

He kissed my cheek. “I was being patient...” he kissed my other cheek, “…waiting for you…” he kissed my nose, “…to figure it out…” he kissed my mouth lightly, “…yourself, smart girl.”

 

I sighed. “I wouldn’t call me smart,” I replied bashfully.

 

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, you are. Smart. Strong. Beautiful. Passionate. Ambitious. Hard-working-,”

 

I blushed at his continuing compliments. “Okay, stop, stop. Enough. I can’t take it anymore,” I said, as I ducked my head and hid it in his chest. I felt him laugh and kiss the top of my head.

 

We’d broken a barrier. There in the office, where we’d met, where our friendship began, where we comforted each other with embraces, kisses, words. We confided in each other, strategized together. My heart swelled at the thought, at the feeling of the man in my arms. It was yet another reason our plan needed to be carried out as soon as possible. 

 

I leaned back from him reluctantly and sighed. “Speaking of hard-working, we need to finish him off. Like now. We can’t wait for V and me to be okay, or for Val.”

 

His expression turned from soft to solemn. He nodded. “How?”

 

A thought grew in my head, something that had taken root before, but I had refused to water it. Now, in light of Archie’s feelings and intentions towards me, perhaps it was time to cultivate a new, riskier path of action.

 

“We take them,” I looked up at him, gauging his reaction to my words. “Hold them captive.”

 

_ Captive _ . The word rang between us in the silence, but his expression didn’t change. He nodded.

 

“I know someone who owes me a favour.”

 

 

**2 hours before**

“He grabbed Veronica and Cheryl. Apparently when he got his shot to grab V, Cheryl was hanging around,” Joaquin heard Jughead say to someone on the other side of the line.

 

“Motherfucker!” a female voice rang out, “What am I supposed to do with Cheryl?”

 

Joaquin frowned. Jughead never mentioned another person being involved, let alone a woman. “Should I just dump her in a ditch? She’ll come to in a couple hours, and she’ll be fine,” he suggested hopefully.  

 

“Fuck no,” the girl replied. He guessed he was now on speakerphone. “Just take them both to the bridge,” she demanded. He heard her mutter a few more curse words.

 

Joaquin grimaced. This woman had a damn temper; even over the phone he was slightly terrified of her.

 

“Wait for my call. Then I'll meet you there,” Jughead’s clear voice replaced the nasty one through the receiver.

 

“Yup, see you soon.”

 

 

**1 day before**

I figured out a way to leave the Pussy Cat out of it.

 

I had never really wanted to include Val in my revenge plan. We’d never been close, she didn’t have that same obligation as my friend to not fuck my boyfriend. It was Veronica, and most of all Archie, who were at fault. I would keep the repercussions focused to them.

 

Instead of body snatching Val, I planned to keep it simple. For her crimes, she would only suffer the loss of her precious iPhone. While we threatened Archie with the spread of volatile information and bodily harm, he wouldn’t be able to contact her. I hoped this would suffice. I wanted to limit the consequences if, somehow, things didn’t go according to plan.

 

It was twenty-four hours until Jughead and I planned to send in his Serpent friend Joaquin to grab Veronica. I knew she had Vixens practice the next night (because I was also supposed to be there, but was skipping it) so I had suggested he slash Smithers’ tires so Veronica would have to walk home. Jughead passed on the information for me – he said he didn’t want to inform Joaquin of my involvement, to keep me safe.

 

He was always thinking of me. Through the entire process, though it was my problem, my soon-to-be ex, my drama, he was there for all of it. We were lying on his couch, for once doing the normal teenage thing of blowing off homework to watch movies, when I asked him why.

 

He ran his long fingers through my loose hair, not looking at my face. “Because…I like you.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” I frowned at his casual explanation. It wasn’t enough. “But this is kind of crazy. We’re kidnapping and blackmailing,” I said, and hearing it come from my mouth sounded surreal.  _ We were actually doing this. _

 

“Yeah,” he dragged the word slowly from his lips, and laughed. “Betty, I think you’re forgetting that I’m in a gang. This is normal shenanigans for me,” he reminded me, finally meeting my eyes. His were strangely guarded.  

 

I examined his face resting close to mine. “You don’t do those things, Jug.” I narrowed my eyes.

 

He probed my expression, and the guard suddenly dropped. “No, I don’t,” he admitted. He sighed and pressed his lips to the side of my head. “I’ve never told you about my father,” he spoke against my skin.

 

“No, you haven’t.”

 

He paused, then reached down to grab my fingers. He played with them nervously before speaking. “He, uh…hit me,” he whispered, “…a lot. Only me, never Mom or JB.”

 

I stilled and gripped his fingers tight. I didn’t speak, willing him to continue.

 

“He said that I wasn’t tough enough. He needed to make me stronger, to be his  _ son _ ,” his voice cracked on his last word. I touched his cheek.

 

“It’s okay,” I murmured.

 

He nodded. “I guess…I’m helping you because you’re fighting back. My father betrayed me every day. He was supposed to…,” he trailed off, swallowing loudly, “be better? Do better. But I never stood up for myself, and now he’s gone. But you’ve got this chance, Betts, to be braver than I was,” his voice strengthened, “to reset the scales. To make that son of a bitch pay.”

 

I ran my fingertips over his face, grazing his eyebrows, soothing the furrow between them. I stroked his cheeks, outlined his lips. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know what to feel, but I wanted to comfort him. His blue eyes darkened, and he stared at me as I continued to smooth the lines on his face.

 

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that,” I finally said, pressing my fingers against his lips. He ghosted a kiss on them. “People who take advantage of the love of those around them…they get what’s coming to them.” I stated firmly, and he nodded.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered, “for being brave.”

 

I pushed his beanie off his head and ran my fingers through his hair. “Thank you for being a part of my karmic retribution,” I smiled mischievously.

 

He chuckled. “This is for the Archie’s and the Forsythe’s of the world.”

 

I closed my eyes, revelling in it – our shared hunger for vengeance. That, along with our chemistry, created a tangible rush in my veins. I wondered if he could feel it.

 

It crested.

 


	4. what an expensive fate

**8 hours before**

 

_Step one-_

 

I danced to the steady beat of my current pop playlist while I packed for Massachusetts. I was in a stellar mood today; energetic, productive and content. The prospect of my immediate move bolstered my emotional state, as did the events I had planned for that evening.

 

I didn’t often blast my music – my mother hated it – but today, I couldn’t be bothered to do anything except what I wanted to do.

 

_Cue Alice Cooper in my doorway._

 

“Betty, honey, is it absolutely necessary that you play that rhythmless, melodramatic teenage garbage so loud?” My mother managed to yell over Phoebe Ryan’s voice.

 

I shrugged nonchalantly, smirking at her while I folded a pair of overalls. I withheld laughter as my mother rolled her eyes, stomped across the room to my boombox, and turned the dial to just a touch above silent. Her annoying quirks, in the face of my soon-to-be absence, weren’t frustrating, as they always had been, but amusing.

 

“Can I help you with something?” I asked her, grabbing a sundress and folding it delicately to place in my suitcase.

 

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Alice pulled the chair out from my desk, and sat down carefully, crossing her ankles. “I’m wondering if you would fill me in on what’s going on in your life right now since you’ve been so MIA lately.”

 

I tilted my head and gestured towards my suitcase. “I’m getting ready to move, Mom. And I’ve been busy with school wrapping up. That’s all.”

 

She stared at me, drilling her cool blue eyes into mine. “Are you sure it’s not because you’ve been too busy hanging out with Archie and Veronica?”

 

I wiped the remainder of my smile off my face. For a journalist, my mother was quite oblivious to the happenings around her. Well, time to give her a scoop to sink her teeth into. She should probably know just how devastated I was these days.

 

“Actually, on the contrary,” I said, sitting down on my bed, “Archie and I are breaking up.”

 

Both perfectly shaped blonde brows shot up, sympathy washed through her face. “Oh?”

 

I nodded slowly, solemnly. Time to put on a show. “Yeah. It’s been a long time coming. I’m pretty sure he’s been…,” I took a deep breath, “…with other girls.”

 

My mother’s expression hardened, then quickly softened. She stood and came to join me on my bed, wrapping an arm around me.

 

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” She rubbed my back, trying to soothe the pain she assumed I was in.

 

I hesitated for effect and leaned into her. “I’m coming to terms with it,” I whispered, “but it’s hard. I just can’t believe he would do that to me.”

 

She blew a long breath from her pursed lips. “Honestly, honey, those Andrews men have always been all over the map with women. I remember Fred being a womanizer himself in high school – always going back and forth between Mary and Hermione. I guess it’s in the Andrews’ blood to be...snakes,” she spat.

 

I almost snorted at her choice of insult. Little did she know the real snake I was spending time with, and it wasn’t an Andrews man.

 

I reset my shaky facade. “I suppose I’m better off without him, right?”

 

She pulled back to look at me. “Of course, Betty. You’re going to go to Harvard without any dead weight and you’re going to become a powerful and successful lawyer. Someone Archie Andrews is completely unworthy of.” She squeezed me tightly into her side.

 

“Thanks, Mom,” I whispered into her shoulder.

 

“You’re welcome, honey. You know how proud of you I am, right?”

 

I smiled. My mother rarely got sentimental; it was nice to hear her encouragement every once in a while.

 

At that moment, the explicit lyrics of SZA came on my stereo. My mother stiffened at a particularly crude line.

 

“I swear, Betty, you need to stop listening to this.” She stood and breezed to the door. “You know what they say – garbage in, garbage out,” she scolded me as she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

 

I rolled my eyes with a smile and went to turn up the music. I grabbed my phone off my nightstand and typed out a quick message to Jughead.

 

_-make Alice Cooper believe I’m so heartbroken that I could never be capable of blackmailing my cheater soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. Check._

 

With the message marked as read, three black dots appeared.

 

_Jughead: Awesome. Now when are you getting here??_

 

I laughed at the screen. He’d been impatient all day, wound up like one of those jittery toys.

 

_Betty: I’ll meet you at the drive-in booth at 7._

 

_Jughead: Kk. Don’t forget your black hood._

 

Three more dots.

 

_Jughead: Kidding. Just the snacks will be fine._

 

I giggled and put my phone down. I had to finish packing, then I could go join him before our plan went down at nine.

 

Before the rest of my future started.

 

~

 

**5 hours before**

 

_Step two-_

 

The rickety door of the Twilight Drive-In’s projection booth shuddered under the weight of my knocks. I heard movement behind it, and the door opened. Jughead was standing in front of me, beautifully dishevelled and smiling.

 

I looked him up and down, then past him into the booth. “What are you doing in there?”

 

“Oh, uh…” He ran his hand through his dark hair; I noticed he wasn’t wearing his beanie. “Just cleaning up for you. It was a bit of a mess.” He stepped to the side so I could enter.

 

He wasn’t lying – he had cleaned. The room was small, tidy, a little bit dusty, but cozy. The projection machines were on one side of the room, a worn-out loveseat on the other. There was a small lamp giving light to the space, and what looked like a brand-new candle flickering on a tiny table stacked with film reels. It smelled sweet, like a combination of chocolate and vanilla.

 

I turned to Jughead, who’d been watching me survey the room silently. “Jug, did you do all this for me?”

 

“Uh…” He shut the door and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. I thought we could chill, maybe watch a movie while we wait,” he answered coyly.

 

I sauntered towards him. “Is this a date, Jug?” I reached up to straighten the lapel of his flannel. “Didn’t want to wait until I was a single woman?” I teased him, stretching up to kiss the edge of his jaw.

 

A tiny shudder rippled through him. “Did you?”

 

I laughed and pulled away. “As much as I would love to partake in my own share of cheating, I think we should be focused on the job at hand.” I moved to the couch and plopped down on it, a puff of dust rose into the air.

 

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly and sat down on the couch next to me. “Then…A Touch of Evil or Psycho?”

 

_-kill time with Jughead while we wait for Joaquin to snatch Veronica. Check._

 

**~**

 

**2 hours before**

 

_Step 3-_

 

I flexed my fingers, rage pulsed through me. It felt heavy, strong and hot. I pulled in a ragged breath and forced it out between my clenched teeth. _Stupid snake-_

 

“Wait for my call. I’ll meet you there.”

 

Through hazy vision, I watched Jughead tap the screen of his phone, ending the call to his friend. He glanced at me, and his eyes widened.

 

“Betts, it’ll be fine,” he assured me, placing his hands on my upper arms. He ran his hands down to grasp my hands, trying to pry my fingers out of their stiff form.

 

“Jug, Cheryl is my fucking cousin,” I said forcefully, looking into Jughead’s clear blue eyes. “I can’t involve her in this. She helped me, it’s not fair to her, I don’t want to hurt her, I don’t want her to know–”

 

My words tumbled out of my mouth, unbidden and fast. My mind raced.

 

Jughead squeezed my hands and hushed me. “Betts. We’ll figure it out. We always do,” he said calmly, firmly, “Honey, take a breath.”

 

I closed my eyes tight, trying to focus on Jughead’s rough hands in mine as I concentrated on my breathing. In. Out.

 

 _How come you can’t control yourself?_ A tiny voice said. I shook my head roughly.

 

_Where the fuck is your mind?_

 

“I don’t fucking know!” I shouted suddenly, and instantly Jughead’s flannelled arms came around me.

 

“Betty, you need to come back to me,” I heard his voice and felt his breath next to my ear, but he sounded far away.

 

_Sometimes you just need to wreck something._

 

I let the idea soak in; it drowned out the whirring I heard in my head.

 

 _Yes._ I just needed to get it out. That energy, that anger. Forget Veronica, forget Cheryl. They were just secondary players to the main game. I imagined Archie standing on that bridge. He would most certainly come. He would be afraid, but he would try not to show it. He would stand tall, regardless of the vulnerable position he found himself in. I pictured his face, his stance. I imagined how good it would feel to tear away his tough guy façade. Hurt him until he couldn’t pretend he was in control anymore.

 

I breathed in deep, opened my eyes and pulled away from Jughead.

 

_Wreck him._

 

“I’m okay,” I whispered to him, “I just need to finish this.”

 

He nodded, though he looked uncertain.

 

I walked to the couch and grabbed my jacket, shrugged it on carefully. Maybe the Serpent had altered the plan a little, but it was still the same.

 

“Call Archie.”

 

Jughead just nodded and pulled out his phone again. He tapped out the number I had given him and put it on speaker phone. It rang once, twice, three times, and then a click sounded and Archie was speaking.

 

“Hello?” He sounded out of breath, and slightly annoyed.

 

“Archie Andrews,” Jughead stated deeply, without hesitation. He sounded menacing. I sat down lightly on the couch, listening to what Jughead and I had practiced plenty of times. “I thought you would like to know…your activities are no longer secret.”

 

Archie waited a beat to respond. “What? Who is this?”

 

“I’ve been watching you, closely. I know what you’ve been doing…who you’ve been doing.”

 

I put my hand over my mouth. Jughead looked up at me, and despite the tense situation, his lips quirked into a small smile.

 

“What have I been doing?” Archie’s tone steeled, challenging his unknown caller. He ignored the who _._

 

Jughead laughed lowly, and I saw his eyes change from teasing to threatening. “Oh, no. You don’t get to ask the questions. I’m the one with the dirt, and if you don’t do what I say, when I say it, everybody will know all the women you’ve been fucking,” he sneered the last word, looking directly at me. His pupils were blown.

 

I grinned widely. I was enjoying Jughead’s confident and aggressive persona, admittedly a little too much. I pressed my legs together trying to calm the rising ache.

 

“Who are you?” I barely heard Archie’s small voice over the phone.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Now listen up, you piece of shit,” Jughead spat forcefully, “I know you’ve got a nice college fund. I want you to be at Sweetwater Bridge in two hours with all that cash stacked neatly in a bag. If you are not there with the money, I will hurt your first lover. Of course, after I tell her what you’ve been doing behind her back.”

 

“Betty?” Archie squeaked, and my nostrils flared. I wanted to slap my name right out of his mouth.

 

“And then, the longer you don’t show up, I’ll hurt your second lover. I’ll do it slowly, and painfully.”

 

I admired the way he was able to say such torturous things so casually. Probably a learned skill from his father.

 

“Don’t fucking touch Veronica,” Archie said, managing to raise his voice despite the obvious fear it was tinged with. “Or I’ll kill you.”

 

Jughead rolled his eyes. “You will never see either of them again, or meet me if you don’t show up at that bridge.”

 

I stood up and crossed the room to stand next to Jughead and the phone. I wanted to hear Archie’s admission close up, clearly.

 

There were a few moments of silence on the other end, and then Archie sighed shakily. “Fine.”

 

My heart soared, my stomach dropped, and my head pulsed all at once.

 

“One o’clock, Archibald. Don’t be late,” Jughead demanded lowly, and then hung up. He looked down at me next to him.

 

“How was it?” He asked, his confidence now evaporated. I almost laughed at the juxtaposition between who he’d been a moment ago, and how he spoke to me now.

 

I stood up on my toes and pressed my lips roughly to his. I kissed him deeply, thoroughly, before biting his lower lip and pulling away. His face was flushed.

 

“Perfect, Juggie,” I crooned, and his lips spread into a wide grin.

 

- _bait the son-of-a-bitch. Check._

 

~

 

**1 hour before**

 

_Step 4-_

 

Veronica and Cheryl were both heavier than I expected. Even with Joaquin and Jughead’s help, the two slim girls felt like tons in my arms as we transferred them from Joaquin’s trunk to mine.

 

Joaquin must’ve seen the discomfort on my face because he muttered, “it’s the dead weight,” to me as I brushed my hands off against my jacket.

 

I nodded, at the same time that Jughead spoke up. “Betty, you don’t have to do this.” I felt his hand on my elbow – his fingers dug in like he didn’t want to let me go.

 

I took in his worried expression. Where I should have felt fear, empathy, possibly remorse, there was nothing. I looked back at the girls in my trunk and felt my resolve harden.

 

I reached up and slammed the lid closed.

 

_-finish this._

 

~

 

 _Take a breath._ I repeated Jughead’s last words in my brain as I sat in my car on Sweetwater Bridge. I glanced at the clock displayed in the dash. _1:02_. Archie was late, and my nerves were fraying as the minutes ticked on.

 

This had not been the plan, not initially. Joaquin was meant to meet Archie at the bridge because Archie didn’t know him from Adam. But, somehow, scaring Archie and conning fifty grand out of him just wasn’t enough for me.

 

I wanted to wreck something. I was used to wrecking myself, to tearing my skin apart to let that poisonous energy leak and drip away, I was done with that. Why was I taking my anxieties out on myself when there were other people to blame?

 

I didn’t know what was inside Archie, but I knew it was bad. He was selfish to his core, narcissistic, borderline abusive. He didn’t deserve me, he didn’t deserve the two other ladies he had shacked up with. He wasn’t worthy of anyone, of anything. People like him were a waste of breath, a drag on society. They just took, and took, never gave anything in return, and left a trail of destruction behind them.

 

 _1:05_. I shook my head in frustration and pulled out my phone to call Jughead. As I was about to hit ‘call’, I saw Archie pull up in his dad’s truck. His headlights glowed, shining through the darkness to illuminate my car.

 

I watched as he stepped out of the driver’s door with a black duffle bag in his left hand. I watched as he looked upon my familiar car, a confused expression filled his face.

 

I opened my door and stepped out. Instantly, his features relaxed in relief.

 

“Betty!” He dropped the bag and rushed towards me. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

 

He was about to engulf me in a hug, but I put my hand out to stop him. It met his chest and I pushed him away forcefully.

 

His dark brows knit together. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Did they…,” he trailed off, registering my quiet anger. “…tell you something?” He whispered.

 

His gentle voice triggered it. It built low in my stomach; I felt it simmering just below the surface.

 

_Take a breath._

 

“I’ve known for weeks,” I said, my voice strong and even. He stepped forward again, trying to reach me. I put my hand out and shoved him again. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I warned him.

 

“Betty, honey, it’s not true,” he lied, shaking his head, “I love you. I want to be with you.”

 

The fire licked up my ribs, reaching my chest. It was hot and heavy; it constricted me. My breaths became shallow and my head grew light.

 

“Stop lying to me, stop calling me honey. Stop it,” I growled at him. I almost didn’t recognize my own voice, as strained as it was. Archie blinked a few times and his eyes hardened.

 

“Stop what?” he answered me, his gentle tone gone, “Trying to be with you? Trying to fix our relationship? I told you the truth about Longy, Betty, and you’ve been avoiding me ever since. I just want to make this work, and you’re making it so fucking difficult, just like you always do.”

 

I clenched my teeth together to stop them from rattling. _Lies lies lies. It was all he could say. It was all he could do. What a worthless-_

 

“-Maybe I just should give up. Give up on us, give up on you. You’re fucking crazy, Betty. Just like your mother.”

 

My hand raised without my permission and tore across his face. I felt the sharp sting through my palm and saw him stagger. He glared at me, his brown eyes hideous and hateful.

 

“You don’t know me at all anymore,” I told him as he stood there with his hand against his cheek.

 

His lip snarled. “I don’t even give a shit. What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you the one who did this?” His eyes widened as the truth dawned on him. I watched the dots connect in his brain, and I smiled.

 

“You think so? Me, your sweet girlfriend, who you thought you could just…lie to and placate? No...” I sneered at him. My entire body felt like it was on fire. “This is where it ends, Archie. I’m done, you’re done. You’re going to give me that bag, and you’re going to disappear from here. You’re never going to speak about this again, or I’m going to ruin your entire fucking life.”

 

“What are you going to do, Betty?” He dropped his hand from his face and stepped forward again, taunting me. He grabbed my chin roughly. His fingers burned me and I clawed at his grasp. “Tell them about Geraldine?”

 

It was like someone had shoved white-hot coals down my throat. The heat filled my lungs, my chest, my head. My eyes teared, my vision blurred. I couldn’t feel my limbs, I couldn’t feel anything except for the urge to destroy.

 

To tear, claw, slash. 

 

I heard the voice, my own, in my head over the loud rushing. _Wreck something. Him._

 

His face was close to mine, his fingers still on my face, his disgusting breath wafted over me. I noticed the red outline of my hand on his face and felt a deep sense of satisfaction in my stomach among the flames. I reached into my pocket, felt cool metal even against my numb fingers. I slid it out and grasped it tightly.

 

~

 

Jughead slouched in the red worn booth. He had a coffee in front of him, and a fully dressed burger, but somehow, he didn’t feel hungry. That never happened.

 

He picked at the sesame seeds on the bun, peeling them off and throwing them on the table. All he could think about was Betty on that bridge, waiting for Archie. Probably now speaking to him. He didn’t understand the detour in the plan. Betty had been adamant that she didn’t want Archie to find out that it was her behind the blackmail. But after she’d heard him call Archie with her demands, something had shifted in her. He remembered her rough kiss, her suddenly eerie calm despite having a full-fledged panic attack moments before.

 

She was all over the place, and that’s why Jughead feared for her now. He had tried to soothe her, remind her before he left. But without his presence there, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to rein herself in.

 

A deep sense of dread filled him, leaving no room for his burger. Everything in him screamed _go find her,_ but he had to stay put until he heard from her. In case things went wrong, he had to have an alibi.

 

He pictured the slim, golden-haired, unmoored girl he’d fallen for. She was brutally honest and strong. She was fun, intriguing, massively intelligent. He had always admired her, ever since she’d became his editor. He’d felt a distinct kinship with her, and it didn’t stem from their parent’s romantic history. Both of them had lived less than perfect childhoods and came out better for it.

 

She was so _wild,_ and he lived for it. He loved how much of handful she was because nothing would ever be boring with her. She wasn’t predictable, not like other girls their age, not like anyone he’d ever met.

 

Bile raised in his throat. He had been there, planning this with her every step of the way. They had written the steps together; they both knew them. Except now, she’d changed them and he wasn’t sure where they were anymore. _Step 1, 2, 5, 7, 50-_

 

The loud jingle announcing someone’s arrival broke him out of his hopeless thoughts. He turned instantly to see whether it was her. It wasn’t her, but Toni. The short girl with pink-streaked hair saw him and rushed over.

 

“Jug, why haven’t you been picking up the damn phone?” She asked, annoyed, as she slid into the booth across from him.

 

Jughead patted his pocket absentmindedly. He had seen Toni’s name flash across his screen multiple times, but he hadn’t wanted to answer in case Betty needed to get a hold of him. “Sorry, I didn’t see it,” he lied.

 

She rolled her eyes. “Too busy brooding, I see. Well, do I have some news for you.”

 

Jughead frowned. He didn’t want to hear anything right now, but Toni’s eyes were flashing in a strange combination of excitement and nerves. “Okay?”

 

“Grundy is fucking a student, but it ain’t Sweet Pea,” she blurted, “It’s Archie Andrews.”

 

Jughead closed his eyes as her words sunk in. _Fuck fuck fuck-_

 

“-I was watching her house and I saw him rush out half clothed a little over 2 hours ago.”

 

_No no no no._

 

“Jughead?”

 

His eyes snapped open and he tried to compose his frantic thoughts, tried to not let his fear show.

 

“That’s great, Toni,” he heard himself say, but he was thinking of Betty again on that bridge. He hoped to god she didn’t know. “Great job.”

 

She frowned at him. “Great job, that’s it? I even got a picture. This is the story of the year, Jug. We can get that predator arrested!” She took out her phone and shoved it in his face.

 

There it was, plain in grainy colour. Archie Andrews leaving the teacher’s house.

 

He felt his heart pounding loudly in his chest and reached up as if he could stifle it. “Toni, that’s really great, but I need to go right now. You should draft up the article and send it to Betty and me for Monday.” He pushed his food towards her. “Here, finish this. See you later.”

 

Jughead slid quickly out the booth and rushed towards the door. He heard Toni’s confused goodbye behind him, but he didn’t look back.

 

He needed to get to Betty.

 

~

 

His hands were still on my face as he whispered crude and gut-wrenching details of his trysts in my face. He spoke of Veronica, her smooth caramel skin against his, how she came undone at his touch. He told me about Val, how he’d written her beautiful lyrics, and whispered them to her as he fucked her. But the worst was when he murmured how it felt to be loved by our teacher. How she knew how to take care of his body, that she was a better lover than all of us combined. How she played him, touched him like he was the most expensive cello, and told him how much she loved him. Despite myself, I had laughed at that, and his fingers tightened on my chin. He grabbed my waist with his other hand and pulled me roughly against him.

 

“Is this funny to you, Betty?”

 

“It’s funny that you think she loves you,” I managed to say despite the pressure he was putting on my jaw.

 

He clenched his teeth and his eyes flashed. His hand slipped down to my ass, and he palmed it roughly over my jacket. Every inch of me screamed. I gripped the object in my hand tightly, willing myself to do something. Anything.

 

“It’s real, Betty. More real than anything we had,” he spat in my face.

 

“Get your fucking hands off me,” I pushed against his chest with my free hand and he smiled at my struggle. I needed to be free, I needed him to let go of me before-

 

He pulled my face closer to his and pressed his lips against my cheek. A scream bubbled up my throat, and I didn’t think.

 

I thrust my arm upwards, towards his chest. I felt Jughead’s pocket knife sink smoothly, without too much resistance, below his sternum. I pulled out and stabbed again. And again. I watched Archie’s face turn ashen, his hands dropped from my body and he stumbled away from me. He touched his abdomen and watched as his blood stained his shirt and hands.

 

He looked up at me, his eyes wholly confused. I stared back evenly and watched as he dropped to his knees. The fire died down in my chest.

 

“Betty…why would you…” he trailed off and looked back down. The three wounds I’d made bled profusely. It dripped onto the dark pavement; shining in the glow of the headlights.

 

I walked forward and crouched in front of him. I dropped my knife and reached out to press my fingers to his wounds, intrigued. I had spent my whole life digging my nails into my skin, being relieved and mesmerized by the little spots of blood that appeared. That was nothing compared to this.

 

I looked back up at Archie, and blood was dripping from his lips as well now. I wondered silently if I’d punctured a lung. He looked into my eyes, and they were solemn and quiet. I stroked his cheek with my bloody fingers.

 

“Nothing to say?” I asked him quietly. All the noise had stopped in my head, the fire had been extinguished almost completely. I smiled.

 

He tried to speak, but he choked. I felt tiny flecks of spit and blood hit my face.

 

I grimaced and dragged my sleeve across my face. “That’s disgusting, Archie. Can you please not make more of a mess than you already have?”

 

Tears poured from his eyes then and ran down his face in thick rivets. I wanted to laugh.

 

“This is how it feels, Arch,” I said sweetly, “to be betrayed. It hurts. It burns. It feels like…no matter how hard you try, you can’t take a breath.” I breathed in deep to emphasize. “It’s how I’ve felt ever since I found out. Val is one thing, at least she isn’t my friend, but Veronica?” I clicked my tongue at him. “You deserve to feel this. Every second of it.” I stared into his dimming eyes as I punctuated my last words.

 

He gasped, and it sounded like wheezing. His eyelids grew heavy, and he swayed, struggling to stay upright.

 

“Let go, Archie,” I whispered, “and know...you're worthless.”

 

He blinked a few more times at me and then his eyelids fluttered closed. His body fell to the side with a muted thud.

 

I stared at his lifeless body. I felt a wave of relief crash over me, but at the same time, my stomach ached. I had this odd sensation of emptiness; it felt like the contents of my stomach had been sucked dry so my spine touched my belly button. Suddenly exhausted, I stood and went to sit on the curb, away from Archie’s body.

 

I couldn’t feel the passage of time, not really. I sat there silently, staring at the blood still spreading across the pavement. I knew that I should be doing something, leaving, or cleaning up, or calling Jughead, but the darkness and silence were so heavy.

 

_Where’s my mind?_

 

My hands stung. At some point, my nails had met flesh. 

 

_What have you done?_

 

I felt grimy and tired.

 

Who cares, I thought. _Who cares._

 

I heard a motorcycle drive up beside my car, the motor cut. Footsteps.

 

“Betty,” Jughead’s voice was strangled.

 

_I need a manicure._

 

“Oh, god.”

 

_I’m too young to go to jail._

 

I laid my head down in my hands. “They’ll be here soon,” I whispered to myself.

 

“Who?”

 

He sat down next to me. He was warm. _Why was he here?_

 

“Where are the girls?”

 

_In the back of my car._

 

I gestured towards it. He nodded. He wasn’t afraid.

 

“Alive?”

 

I laughed loudly. Too loud. The sound pierced the night. “Of course.”

 

“What happened?” He asked me. His eyes probed mine, and he played with my bloody fingers.

 

 _He should be running._  

 

I ignored his question. “I’m going to get caught.”

 

His eyes darkened and he shook his head furiously. Just then, a loud thudding came from inside my car and muffled shouting.

 

“ _LET US THE FUCK OUT!”_

 

I groaned, and Jughead put his hand on the back of my neck, rubbing circles with his thumb.

 

“Betts, it’s going to be okay. I have an idea.”

 

I looked up into his dark blue eyes. He should be scared, running, calling the police. He wasn't. He sat there next to me, feet from the dead body of my ex-boyfriend, comforting me. 

 

I curled into his embrace. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a RIDE to write, i hope it was an enjoyable read! 
> 
> Shout out to my magnificent beta Cyd - you can find her on tumblr at shrugheadjonesthethird and here on AO3 at squids. CHECK HER OUT. 
> 
> thank you for keeping up with psycho betty and partner-in-crime jug. xx


	5. i'd feel better

**4 days after**

 

“I’m sure both of you understand why I asked you here today.” Sheriff Keller sat across from us, leaned forward in his chair, propped up on his elbows. I knew what his tactic was – he was trying to appear intimidating in order to glean information. It wouldn’t work on me. I had used the technique before.

 

Jughead also seemed impervious to the Sheriff’s bad cop persona. He slouched in the chair next to me, his foot bounced impatiently like his time was being wasted. I was currently playing the part of a devastated, scorned but slightly worried ex-lover, so I couldn’t match his innocent apathy. Instead, I kept my face permanently fixed in an expression of hopelessness – with sad, downcast eyes that never seemed to rid themselves of moisture.

 

Jughead sighed before he responded. “Yes, Sheriff. It’s about our article.”

 

Sheriff Keller nodded. “You published this article in the  _ Blue and Gold’s _ online paper this morning, correct?”

 

“Yes,” Jughead answered. I nodded absently.

 

“When did you receive news of Mr. Andrews’ infidelity with Geraldine Grundy?”

 

I flinched at his words. I didn’t actually  _ feel _ anything at them, but of course, Betty Cooper would still be understandably upset. That’s what the Sheriff would expect, that’s what the town would expect.

 

Jughead answered again. “Another member of the paper, Toni Topaz, had been investigating Grundy for weeks, trying to figure out if she was involved with a student. Toni found out it was Archie on Thursday night, she told me, and I told her to keep it under wraps until we published on Monday like we normally do. Also,” he glanced at me as he continued, “we wanted to be sensitive to Betty, inform her first before the school, the authorities or the town knew.”

 

Sheriff Keller’s gaze turned to me. “Right,” he conceded, “Betty, why would you allow a story to be published about your boyfriend’s affair with his teacher?”

 

I blinked rapidly at his question, feigning emotion. “I take the school paper very seriously, sir. I wasn’t going to let Archie ruin that for me, too.” My voice cracked convincingly on his name.

 

Sheriff Keller’s expression softened as he nodded and he turned back to Jughead. “Mr. Andrews has been missing since Thursday, the night you say Miss Topaz found out about the affair. Do you know why he’s missing, or where he might be?” His eyes flicked back to me briefly.

 

“I’m assuming he’s gone because I told him we knew,” Jughead shrugged. “I told him we were going to publish the story and that we wouldn’t leave his name out-- journalistic integrity and legitimacy and all that.”

 

Sheriff Keller grabbed a folder off his desk. “Your story lines up with what we know at this point. We pulled his phone records and it shows he got a call at 11:58 from an unknown number. Would that be you?”

 

Jughead nodded and Sheriff Keller smiled tightly. “It appears that Archie skipped town after you phoned him. His father says he came home sweaty, angry and quiet, took his truck and a bag and left.”

 

Jughead grimaced. “Couldn’t face the music, I guess.”

 

Sheriff Keller frowned and picked up another file. “I guess not. We also pulled his bank statement and it looks like he was able to withdraw the entire contents of his bank account from different ATMs around the city, which suggests he was leaving, not coming back, and didn’t want anyone to find him.”

 

I tried hard not to laugh at Sheriff Keller’s assumptions. Instead, I sniffled quietly and wiped at my dry eyes.

 

_ This was way too easy. _

 

“Is there anything else you want to know, Sheriff?” Jughead asked, looking at me with concern in his eyes. “I think it would be best for us, particularly Betty, to begin putting this behind us.”

 

Sheriff Keller leaned back from his desk, the bad cop persona now wiped away. He crossed his arms casually. “Just one more question,” he said, looking my way with a gentle expression, “is there anything we can do to make this easier for you, Betty?”

 

I pretended to think about his words carefully, my solemnity still intact. What would Betty Cooper say?

 

My voice wavered as I answered him. “Just make sure Grundy goes away.”

 

He nodded slowly and his lips pulled into a loose and gentle smile. “We are working on it, Miss Cooper.”

 

 

**30 minutes after**

 

Joaquin didn’t look at me once as he helped Jughead wrap Archie’s body in a tarp, and then a thick, burgundy rug. He was focused on the task in front of him, occasionally muttering obscenities, often shooting worried glances towards Jughead. It was obvious he wasn’t doing it on my behalf; he cared about his friend and that was the only reason he was helping. 

 

Maybe that was why Jughead was still helping me. I picked at my cuticles silently, peeling the tiny flaps of skin back and revelling in the sting. But  _ why would he care about me?  _ A girl with anger issues and… murder-ish tendencies. I turned my attention to picking at the fresh crescents on my palms.

 

Jughead’s long fingers suddenly appeared and wrapped around my wrist, his breath was in my ear. “Don’t,” I heard him say. I looked up into his eyes and his concern almost took my breath away. He squeezed lightly, then smiled gently at me as he let go. I nodded and wrapped my arms tightly around my chest so I wouldn’t be tempted.

 

Joaquin hoisted the large bundle onto his shoulder and Jughead helped him carry it to the Andrews’ truck. I watched them set it down carefully on the tailgate and work together to push the rug tightly to the front of the bed. They finished by rolling the top cover over, obscuring the cargo. Jughead tossed Joaquin something – probably the keys – and then Joaquin hopped into the driver’s seat. I watched as the Andrews’ truck pulled away from the bridge and out of sight.

 

I breathed in a deep and shaky breath. The only evidence left of what had happened was the dark crimson puddle in the middle of the road and Jughead’s stolen pocket knife next to it.

 

I watched as he bent to retrieve his knife. My stomach sank as he wiped the blade casually on the hem of his flannel and slid it back into his pocket. I wanted to take it from him, the object I had used to end Archie’s life. Partly because I wanted to keep it, to remind myself of what I was capable of, and partly because it was dangerous for him to have it.

 

I stood, the words on the tip of my tongue, when more shouting came from my car. Cheryl and Veronica had been shouting off and on since they’d woken up, but until we had Archie’s body out of there, we couldn’t release them. Now, though it was risky to let them know of our involvement with their kidnapping, Jughead had insisted it was necessary. He’d come up with an ingenious idea.

 

He’d taken Archie’s money and split it between the two girls’ cheer bags, grabbed also by Joaquin and stashed in my back seat. Those bags now lay beside the trunk of my car, awaiting the two girls to take my deal.

 

I rubbed my face in exhaustion. I was entirely spent; my earlier fit of rage had drained me of all energy and emotion. All I could feel now was the dull ache of my stomach and the stinging in my hands.

 

And Jughead’s arms around me.

 

I focused on the rising and falling of his chest as I steeled myself to pull off this last part of the plan. So far, we were handling things. Steps had gone wrong, clearly, but we’d dealt with them. Now, everything hinged on this final step – convincing Cheryl and Veronica to trade me their silence.

 

I pulled out of his embrace and looked up into his face. I studied his expression, his dark blue eyes, his relaxed mouth. I felt his slow and steady heartbeat against my chest. 

 

“Why are you still helping me?” I whispered, lifting my chin to see his reaction clearly.

 

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he ducked his head to rest his forehead against mine. The soft lock that had fallen out of his beanie brushed against my clammy skin.

 

“How could I not?” He smiled lightly and shrugged.

 

I blinked rapidly at his answer, at how blasé it was, how simple his thought process could be. I didn’t understand; I couldn’t comprehend how this seemingly gentle and compassionate boy would stick around to help an unhinged girl clean up the body of her ex-lover and look at her with the same adoration that he did before.

 

“Easy,” I breathed, choking on the word. “Just leave. Leave me here with his body, that mess to clean up, with these girls I forced your friend to take, and just pretend like you never even knew me-“

 

Jughead pressed his hands to the sides of my face. “Honey, sshh. I would never do that to you. I could never pretend…” his thumbs stroked the tears that had fallen from my eyes without my permission, “…that I didn’t know you. That I don’t love you.”

 

And somehow, even though it didn’t make sense for him to love me, I believed those words coming from him more than I had ever believed Archie. Though Archie had seen me through my childhood, been with me through years of experiences and memories and mistakes, he’d never really known me. Never really looked at me and  _ seen  _ me.

 

Jughead had. He’d seen me in my worst moment and still cared about me. He’d seen my ugliest flaws and still believed I was someone worth knowing, someone worth loving.

 

I had always felt like there was something hidden within me. My whole life it had been fighting and failing to get out. I had let go tonight, allowed myself to respond to the overwhelming and burning feelings inside me. It had resulted in Archie dead at my feet. I had thought it would chase Jughead away too, terrified, straight to the authorities.

 

But instead, he was still here, holding me together.

 

I thought fulfilling my vendetta would fix me, make me feel better. But it didn’t, it had just given me a brutal bellyache. This boy had made all the difference.

 

I sighed and tentatively pressed my mouth to his. I could feel everything at once – his warm lips against mine, his breath in my mouth. I could taste my tears between us. I could feel his hands slip down from cradling my face to gripping the hair at my neck tightly in his fists. I could feel the hollow ache in my stomach being replaced with another kind of ache, a desperate longing, one that pleaded to be filled.

 

He pulled away from me all too soon, breathing heavily and smiling. It was impossible not to reciprocate his grin. Though the night was still far from over for  us, a ray of hope shone like the horizon would shortly.

 

“Betts, I would love to keep doing this,” Jughead said between breaths, “but it would be far safer and probably far more satisfying  _ afterwards.” _

 

I frowned at his perfect reasoning, annoyed, but nodded. He chuckled at my pout and pulled me into his side as he led me towards my car. Re-energized by Jughead’s profession, I felt ready to take on the world.

 

Or, more aptly, Cheryl and Veronica.  __

 

Jughead pressed his lips once more to my temple, then left my side to pull the lever to open the trunk. The lid swung open, and a fuming Cheryl kicked her legs out.

 

She gasped as she took me in – dirty, covered in blood and smirking.

 

“Cousin?”

 

Behind her, Veronica sat up, massaging her legs and arms. She gingerly slid out of the trunk, her wide dark eyes never leaving me.

 

Jughead approached them from behind, coming from the driver’s side door. Both girls jumped at his sudden appearance and I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

 

“Nice nap, ladies?” He asked them, a wide taunting smile on his face.

 

Cheryl seemed to recover faster than Veronica, because she swung a fist in Jughead’s direction. He easily caught it and twisted her arm behind her back.

 

I stepped forward and held my hands out in surrender. We didn’t need this escalating past what we could control. “Guys, it’s okay. We didn’t take you,” I spoke softly, “Jug, let Cheryl go.”

 

Cheryl glanced at me, and I saw relief wash over her face that I seemed to be on her side. Jughead let her go and stepped back. “As long as she doesn’t come at me again.”

 

“She won’t,” I shook my head slowly, “Right, Cher?”

 

She nodded but kept her eyes locked on Jughead. She was wary of him, but okay with me. I could work with that.

 

Veronica stared between Jughead and I, her dark brows furrowed in thought, trying to fit the pieces together. I caught her eye and smiled softly at her.

 

“V, you should know something.” I stepped closer. “Archie’s been sleeping with Ms. Grundy.”

 

Her eyes widened, then flicked up and down my bloody coat. “Where is he?” She asked, hesitantly.

 

I shook my head. “Gone. He left. I don’t know where he was going.” I shrugged noncommittally.

 

“Cousin, why does it look like you just went hunting in the middle of the night while wearing last year’s Michael Kors and being accompanied by this hobo?” Cheryl tore her eyes from Jughead to look at me with a pointed gaze.

 

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. “You’re always so observant, Cher. It’s why you’ve been helpful to me.”

 

Cheryl grimaced and sneered, her red lip curling upwards. Veronica blinked and moisture quickly gathered in her eyes before spilling over. Of course, crying again.

 

“What did you do?” Cheryl asked in a low tone. Annoyance licked at me; she was trying to be threatening. Well, maybe she was head bitch on the field, on the court, but here on the bridge, it was me.

 

“Stop asking so many goddamn questions,” I responded, not able to mask the vitriol lacing my voice, “It’s time you listen to me.”

 

Cheryl flinched and shrank back. Veronica’s sobs choked off; she placed her hand over her mouth to stop the loud gasping. She clenched her eyes closed. I tried not to roll mine.

 

“Your two bags are in the back of my car, each now containing twenty-five thousand dollars,” I stated, “One for each of you. You can leave here tonight, with those bags, unharmed, if you do a few things for me.”

 

Cheryl continued to stare at me, every so often shooting Jughead a glance. Veronica had quieted at my words.

 

“First, you say nothing about this to anyone. I don’t care where you tell your parents you were tonight, you do not tell them you were with me. You do not tell them you saw Jughead. You do not tell them that you were stuffed in a trunk against your will. You do not tell them even one _ facet of the truth _ ,” I paused to take a breath. “Second, you continue on with your lives like this never happened. You do not ask questions, you do not conspire, you do not investigate. Regardless of what you hear, you go on. You do not dwell. You do not get any ideas,” I emphasized my last words, driving my point home. 

 

“That’s it. Simple. You do those two things and I’ll give you your bags right now and you can leave.” I shrugged, briefly looking at Jughead for assurance. His lips lifted slightly in confirmation.

 

Veronica interrupted our silent exchange. “Why?” Her voice shook.

 

“I’m not telling you anything more, V. I’m just going to give you free money.” I gestured towards my car. “Take it, or leave it.”

 

“What if we leave it?” Cheryl asked, her light brows furrowed.

 

I focused my attention on her and stepped forward again slowly until I was an arm's length away from the both of them. I tilted my head. “Then you don’t leave here. And if you agree, and then break your promise later, both of your names will be dragged through the mud in the biggest shit storm Riverdale has ever seen.”

 

Jughead shifted closer at my answer, anticipating a reaction. But Cheryl stood her ground, staring at me coldly while Veronica cowered and sniffled. She almost looked like she wanted to hop back into the trunk.

 

“Fine,” Cheryl responded after a moment, shrugging. “I don’t give a fuck. This isn’t my drama.”

 

I smiled at her brightly. “Thanks, Cher. But unfortunately,” I turned to look at Veronica who had sank back from me further, “I need V to agree as well.”

 

“Ronnie, let’s just take our bags and go. C’mon,” she spat at Veronica, exasperated. I grinned; she was doing my job for me.

 

Veronica shook her head furiously. “Where is Archie?” She demanded again, though she looked like she was terrified to hear the answer.

 

“I honestly do not know where Archie is,” I pursed my lips, half-lying. Jughead snorted beside me and Veronica’s gaze shot to him.

 

Veronica straightened, apparently gathering her resolve and courage. She frowned at me darkly. “Did you hurt him?”

 

“No,” I lied.

 

“I don’t believe you,” she snarled, glaring at me. I felt her hate pouring from her, like Archie’s blood had poured from him.

 

“You don’t need to believe me, you just need to keep your mouth shut.”

 

“Do you think you can buy my silence?” she asked. Her voice shook, it vibrated in her throat but she continued. “I’m a Lodge. I don’t need the twenty-five grand you scrounged up, god knows how. The only thing I need is the truth. Tell me what you did to Archie.”

 

Suddenly Jughead had the muzzle of a gun pressed to her temple and I had to mask surprise of my own. Veronica shook and closed her eyes tightly at the cool contact. Tears still leaked from her face.

 

“V,” I spoke in a soothing voice. “I really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt either of you. It was never my goal,” I crooned and she opened her eyes. “Archie should never have done what he did. He took advantage of me, of you, Val, and Grundy took advantage of him. It wasn’t right.” 

 

I gazed at Veronica’s scared face and motioned for Jughead to drop his hand. 

 

“All I want now is for us to continue living, despite what he did and how he made us feel. I don’t want him to ruin anything else. It’s not really about the money, V, but I want you to have it. For my peace of mind and to remind you that there’s something good on the other side of pain.” I glanced at Jughead as I finished speaking. 

 

_ Something great.  _

 

“Please just take it, Ron,” Cheryl whispered, pleading with her. Veronica finally tore her eyes away from my face to glance at the redhead beside her. She looked back at me, visibly contemplating her next move.

 

“It can help with your future. I want you to have a future,” I nodded, assuring her.

 

She blinked and wiped her eyes with her hand. Her dark makeup smudged across her cheeks. She nodded rapidly and gasped, “Okay.”

 

I nodded to Jughead and he tucked the gun back in his coat. He went to the backseat to get their bags.

 

“Thank you, girls, so much,” I smiled brightly at them and they stared back with dull eyes. Satisfaction swelled in my chest.

 

Jughead returned with two bags in hand. Cheryl snatched the deep red one, while Veronica slowly retrieved her purple one. They quickly retreated from the bridge, walking past the remainder of Archie’s blood on the pavement.

 

I watched as Veronica looked down at it and then hastened her pace to catch up with Cheryl. Jughead stood next to me as the girls became dark figures and then disappeared altogether.

 

“Do you think it’ll work?” I turned to him, my voice a ghost of its previous soothing tone. Letting them walk away had either been a success or the biggest mistake of the night, and I felt the heaviness of that uncertainty.

 

He placed his hand on my back and I leaned into him. “Yeah. After that, I don’t know who would dare mess with you.”

 

 

**A week after**

 

The day Riverdale High’s class of 2018 graduated, the sun beat down mercilessly, baking all of us that were dressed in navy blue robes. Principal Weatherbee stood up at the podium, shaking the hands of the students as they walked across the stage, wiping his palms on his pants each time. My mother stood behind the lecturn – as the head of the parent-teacher committee she was tasked with calling out the names of each graduate as they were handed their diplomas. Despite the heat, she wore a pristine smile on her pink lips, a perfect crisp blouse, and her hair curled on her shoulders.

 

I waited in line with the rest of the ABC’s, waiting for my mother to call my name. Then it would be my turn to cross the stage, shake Weatherbee’s likely soaked hand, receive my diploma and pose for a picture. I chanted the steps in my head.

 

_ Cross. Shake. Receive. Pose. _

 

This was supposed to be the proudest moment of our lives to date. We had finally finished high school, and were deemed ready to go out into the world and enact change. Graduation day was a day of triumph, exuberance, and bittersweet feelings.

 

But for me, it was just another hoop to jump through. A means to an end. Not even the biggest thing I had gone through in the last week.

 

I tried to keep a neutral face as my mother called out _ his _ name.

 

“Archibald Andrews.”

 

Whispers and murmurs were heard throughout the crowd, along with a weak and scattered applause. I felt the stares of some on me, heavier than the sun’s rays. My mother was still speaking.

 

“Unfortunately, Archie couldn’t attend our ceremony today. On his behalf, his father will accept his diploma.”

 

I watched as Fred Andrews trudged up the stairs to receive his absent son’s diploma; a slip of paper rolled tightly and tied with a yellow bow. It meant nothing to the boy whose name was on it.

 

The police department had closed Archie’s missing person case shortly after Jughead and I had made our statements. When the Andrews’ truck showed up on a traffic camera in Highlands, New Jersey and Archie’s bank card was used in approximately the same location, it was clear to Sheriff Keller that Archie had just left town on his own. This was the story the evidence told, exactly the story I wanted it to tell, and it couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

 

The truth was that Joaquin had driven the truck outside of New York, used Archie’s bank card, and then ditched everything altogether. I did not know where he disposed of the body - it didn’t matter to me. 

 

The uncomfortable moment passed as quickly as it had come. My mother continued with the names of the graduates.

 

“Cheryl Blossom.”

 

Cheryl trounced across the stage, her signature coloured robe billowing behind her as she walked. She avoided Weatherbee’s hand, snatched her diploma and shot the crowd a beaming smile as she put her hand on her hip and posed for the camera.

 

Cheryl had not spoken to me since that night on Sweetwater Bridge, but I was not concerned about my cousin’s silence. Cheryl loved gossip, but she also liked luxury and freedom. She would stay quiet because it would be wise for her to. Cheryl was first and foremost selfish; what would she gain from the truth?

 

I also knew she would keep quiet because I had spotted her climbing out of a brand-new cherry red Camaro in the parking lot.

 

I was next in line. On the stage, Chuck Clayton lifted his arms as parents and families cheered. The sound lifted something in me and as I caught my mother’s eye, I laughed lightheartedly.

 

“Elizabeth Cooper,” my mother called clearly, looking at me and beaming with pride. I squeezed her outstretched hand as I walked past her.  _ Cross. _

 

I smiled softly at Weatherbee and lightly shook his hand.  _ Shake.  _ I nodded as he congratulated me and handed me the paper I had worked four long years for.  _ Receive.  _ I turned towards the crowd and smiled as Toni snapped my last picture at Riverdale High.  _ Pose. _

 

I met the dark blue eyes of Jughead, who was staring at me, grinning from ear to ear. He tapped his nose with his index finger and pointed it at me. A wave of heat that had nothing to do with the weather swept through me.

 

I made my way back to my seat to sit uncomfortably in the heat as the rest of my classmates got their chance to walk the stage. When the J’s came, I laughed as Jughead fiddled uncomfortably with the unfamiliar cap on top of his head, and whooped loudly as he awkwardly posed for his picture. As he passed me on the way back to his seat, I snagged his arm, pulled him close to me, and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. In that moment, I didn’t care who saw my genuine show of affection for him; the slight risk of gossip was worth the surprised and content look in his eyes. He squeezed my fingers and gently smoothed his thumb on my wrist before reluctantly letting go to return to his seat.

 

Finally, after Veronica Lodge, Reginald Mantle, Moose Mason, Josie McCoy, Ethel Muggs, Sylvester “Sweet Pea” Pearson, and the rest of the graduating class were called out, we were free to throw our caps. 

 

I tossed mine high into the air without looking. Instead, I stared across the sea of my classmates' smiling faces. I thought about the last four years and before that – how we’d all crossed paths, how we’d gotten together, fallen apart. I thought of the great things we’d do, the failures we’d experience, the tears we’d cry, the blood we’d spill. Mostly, I just observed how carefree everyone was. It was like the weight of the world had been removed from our shoulders. 

 

I never found where my cap landed. 

  
  


 

**2 weeks after**

 

Jughead had asked Kevin and Toni to take over the  _ Blue and Gold _ . He had initially planned to stay behind after graduation, to do a victory lap in order to better some of his grades, but when Betty asked him to move with her to Massachusetts, there was no way he could say no. 

 

He couldn’t say no because he couldn’t imagine his dreary day-to-day existence at Riverdale High without her, his personal bright light at the end of the darkest tunnel. He couldn’t say no because, if he was being honest with himself, he worried about her mental well-being. But most of all, he couldn’t say no because he’d been ridiculously obsessed with Betty Cooper for years and had easily fallen in love with her once he truly got to know who she was. 

 

And he  _ loved _ who she was. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around how dumb Archie Andrews had been for letting her go, for hurting her, but he was so happy Archie’s loss had been his gain. 

 

_ But what an incredible loss it had been.  _

 

He would never forget that night, when he’d found her curled into herself on the pavement, covered in the blood of her ex-lover. He would never forget when he’d realized that there was something dangerous, yet darkly passionate inside of her. He would never forget when he figured it out: she was his light, but she also needed one too. She needed him. 

 

He packed his bags quickly, grabbing his favourite clothes, books, movies, and some toiletries. He didn’t have much to pack, but he wouldn’t need much. He was starting over with her. He was getting away from the town he grew up in, from the trailer where his father took out the pressures of life on him-

 

From the murder he’d helped the girl he loved commit and cover up. 

 

He quickly hugged his confused mother and little Jellybean goodbye, assuring them he would forward an address as soon as he knew it to give. His mother squeezed him tight but she didn’t hold him back. She knew the demons that existed for him in this town, because they existed for her, too. 

 

Betty’s car idled outside the trailer. He didn’t look back as the door slammed shut, just forward, towards his beacon waiting for him.

 

~

 

The wind whipped my loose hair around my face. I had opened the windows two hours ago; the smell and sound of the fresh air screamed freedom. 

 

I looked to my left and squinted at Jughead in the driver’s seat. He was outlined by the sun, glowing along with the sky as dusk revealed itself in gorgeous colours of orange, pink and golden yellow. I watched as it reflected on his smooth olive skin, his inky black hair, and as he turned to smile at me, in his clear blue eyes. 

 

My heart felt lighter away from Riverdale, by his side, hurtling towards the city that would surely hold countless opportunities for both of us. I imagined our small and cozy apartment, filled with my law books, his video games, the evidence of our new adventures. I imagined we’d find our places; maybe a quirky coffee shop where Jughead would work part-time, or a quiet park bench where we could people-watch and plot our next mischief. 

 

Regardless of what Cambridge held for Jughead and me, it would be different than what we had in Riverdale. It wouldn’t be fake friends, controlling parents, or lying teachers and boyfriends. It wouldn’t be chilling trailers, teeming halls, or dusty film booths. There would be no bruising punches from fathers, no piercing blades or pointed muzzles. And as long as we stuck together, I hoped desperately that there would be no betrayal. I wanted to forget how it felt to drown in it, how the lack of oxygen lit a fire in my chest. I had finished my plan, settled my vendetta. I wasn’t looking for another. 

 

I reached out to rest my scarred palm on his leg and he looked away from the road briefly to smile at me. Rather than the hollow ache I’d grown familiar with, I felt a pleasant leap in the bottom of my stomach. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. 

 

I spied the sign indicating the city’s limits, and my laughter disappeared into the wind. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me and finishing this story! It's been great fun to bring this Betty and Jughead to life. I hope you check in with psycho betty again because I've got some exciting new projects on the horizon. 
> 
> An extra special thank you to my magnificent beta Cyd (shrugheadjonesthethird on tumblr, squids here). This story would've been nothing without her. Go check out her work! She's a fantastic writer and a great friend. 
> 
> thanks for keeping up! love always xx

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at psychobetts  
> xx


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